by Huss, JA
I drop the gun and cover my face with my hands.
“I need you to watch my back when I take them, you understand?”
I stare up at him for a few seconds. His face is dark. He comes off as menacing and intense. But even so, I was brought up in a family where making demands was met with more demands. I’m well-versed in the art of negotiations. “I can see what you get out of this. I’m your ace, right?”
He nods, but even in the dim light I can see him squint as he tries to figure out where I’m headed with this.
“So what do I get?”
He chuckles. “You get to participate. On my team.”
“Do I look some dumb blonde who’s so hard up for attention I’ll agree to anything just to get it?” I huff out a laugh. “Sorry, poison pufferfish. There’s got to be something in it for me.”
His hand goes to his chin as he ponders my answer. “You love that guy? Spencer Shrike?”
“What’s it to you?”
“You want something from me or not, Veronica? If so, cut the shit. I’m about to make an offer.”
He waits. Ball’s in my court. “Yeah,” I say after several silent seconds. “Yeah. I love him, OK? He’s the only guy I want.”
“Well, that trial? That testimony by your friend Rook they’re all hanging their futures on? It’s not gonna turn out the way they think. It’s fixed, Bombshell. They’re all gonna be charged with murder, obstruction, perjury, and grand larceny next week. And in the case of your blue-eyed friend? Human trafficking. I’ve seen the order. Your girlfriend is walking into a trap. She’s gonna be caught in lie after lie after lie as soon as she takes that stand.”
“What?” Holy fuck, my heart is beating so fast, I feel like I have to hold it in my chest with my hand.
“But I can make it go away, Bombshell. I can.” He smiles down at me. It’s the most diabolical smile I’ve ever seen. “I have latitude to…” He stops to laugh under his breath. And then he turns his head and gives me a sidelong glance that sends chills up my spine. “To take care of things in my own way. And if you help me tomorrow, I’ll take care of that trial and your dream relationship with Spencer Shrike can begin.”
I gulp. “And what if I don’t?”
“You will, Ronnie. Because if you don’t, your boyfriend dies.”
Chapter Twenty-Five - Veronica
It’s three AM when he drops me off on the second floor of the condo building. I give him a curt, I’m-a-professional nod and walk out calmly. But as soon as the doors close behind me, I lean back against the wall and try my best not to hyperventilate.
How the fuck, Veronica? You are one stupid chick. Oh, a pretty gun. That’s exciting! Sure, I’ll be your backup, you mobster-slash-soldier who isn’t legitimate.
I breathe in and out for a few seconds. I get the panic attacks all the time at work, so I’m pretty good at getting it under control.
Whewwwww. I blow out a long breath and wait for my heart rate to calm down. Then my phone vibrates and I squeal and jump as I put my hand over my heart again. I check the text message. Go inside, Veronica. I need you fresh later.
I look up at the ceiling and yup, sure enough there are cameras up there, hidden in those little black dome things that Rook always points out to me where ever we go. She’s paranoid of cameras after her first reality show experience.
I smile and do a little salute. I don’t want him to see me so vulnerable. I hate being vulnerable. And you’d think a girl carrying a loaded FN Five-SeveN and two hundred rounds of those pointy cone-shaped cartridges packed inside ten extra mags would feel powerful.
But guns don’t make the girl. And I don’t feel powerful.
I push the key in the lock and open the condo door. It’s dark, so I fish around for the light switch. Find it. Flick it.
And… nothing. No lights.
Strong hands reach out and grab my arms, wrestling me backwards, slamming me into someone’s hard chest. “What the—”
My mouth is covered and the gag is tied behind my head. I bend over, ready to fuck this person up with some stealthy jujitsu, but my wrists are pulled together and bound behind my back before I can even attempt a move.
I scream, but it comes out muffled and then the hood is thrown over my head.
I’m dragged down the hall to the bedroom and this is when it all becomes real. I kick. I fling my feet wildly, but the man just picks me up and carries me to the bed, throwing me down hard enough so I bounce.
My legs kick out again as I try to scramble away, but those hands are on my ankles, not squeezing hard, but just enough to make me—
“Arggghhhh,” I moan. Oh shit, that fucking tickles. “Stop,” I try to say through my gag. But his hands go behind my bare knees and I lose it. I wiggle because I’m really getting tickled now. I wiggle so much I almost get away.
Lips begin to kiss my neck and chills erupt down my whole body.
“I love the shudder, baby. Did you know that every time I come at you for a fuck or a tease, you shudder for me? Do you shudder for anyone else?”
Spencer.
I can’t answer because I’m still gagged and hooded.
He leans down and buries his face in my neck, and then inhales deeply. “Veronica Vaughn, why the fuck do you smell like guns?”
The light on the bedside table flicks on and the hood is removed. Spencer is smiling down at me. I can’t help it, I smile too. Right through my gag. And then I start making noises that should clue him in to take the gag off, but instead he puts the hood back on and lowers himself on top of me. His body is hard. Every inch of Spencer is hard. He’s like a rock or a mountain. His arms are positioned alongside my body and he spreads his legs so he’s straddling me.
He bites my lip.
“I like you gagged, Bombshell. It’s refreshing to make you be quiet. Don’t get me wrong, I love your slutty mouth, especially when it seals around my cock, sucking me until I explode down your throat. But right now, I’m gonna talk business and you’re gonna listen. You got it?”
I nod. I’m all for his brand of talking. When Spencer talks business, my panties need changing. It’s been a long time since I had a proper Spencer fuck. A long, long time. That alleyway halfer and the penthouse quickie do not a fuck make.
“Did you go shooting tonight?”
I nod and he leans down to kiss my neck. Oh God, here it comes. I’m already wet.
“Did you go on a date tonight?”
I shake my head. That was not a date. I thought Spencer’s idea of a date was pretty bad, but Bobby or Tet or whatever the fuck his name is—yeah, that was not a date. A job interview is more like it.
“You look hot, Bombshell. What were you doing?” Spencer pulls the hood off and slips my gag down. “Answers, now.”
“I did have dinner with the landlord. Pasta. It was really good, he’s got a private chef up there, have you ever hired a private chef for a date?”
“Ronnie, cut the shit,” he growls at my rambling.
“He took me shooting after.”
“Why?”
“To show off.” I’m not gonna tell him shit. Tet made that very clear on the ride home. No information about the job was to leak out. Like at all. Because if it did, Spencer was a dead man. I love Spencer so right now I’m gonna lie like the professional I’ve suddenly become. “And try to impress me after I challenged him. He thought I was some stupid girl who didn’t know her pink .38 from her Walther P99.”
This makes Spencer laugh and his eyes crinkle up in the corners.
“Untie me.”
“Yeah, right. I’m not done. Did he try anything?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “He kissed me.”
Spencer frowns. “Did you like it?”
“Yes, it was”—I pause to stop the laugh, because Spencer’s jealousy is all over his face—“um, well. Sweet, I guess. Gentle.”
He smiles. “Sweet, huh. So you like it gentle, Bomb?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you want it gen
tle now?”
“Untie me.”
“Answer me.” He sits up on his knees and pulls his shirt over his head.
I moan. I’m not even embarrassed to admit it. “I need this. I need this bad. I need it to be long, and slow, and rough, and dirty, and fast, and hard, and every way you want to give it to me, Spencer. I need you. I need you to love me right now. Whatever the reason is that you’ve been ignoring me, been pushing me away, just stop. Please. I need you.”
He gently grabs my shoulders and pulls me forward to untie my hands. Then he finds the hem of my dress and pulls it up and over my head. He throws it off to the side of the room and then looks down at my fuck-me boots. “Those,” he says with his eyebrows raised, “will need to stay on.”
Do I know this man, or what?
He reaches around and unclasps my bra, his fingers lightly dragging across my skin as he pulls it over my shoulders and down my arms. My head falls back and my mouth opens to let out a moan.
He goes for my panties next. His fingers hook inside the elastic and he pulls. I wrap my arms around his neck so I can lift my hips and he leans in to bite my lip and slip me some tongue before backing away. He gives me the crooked I’m-gonna-make-you-scream grin, and then his mouth is all over my body. His lips suck on my breast and he palms them from underneath, forcing them to push up my chest. “Suck, baby.”
My tongue darts out and licks my nipple and he goes wild, growling against my skin, his mouth stealing the bunched-up tip away. He flicks his tongue against it, then bites.
I squirm because it’s painful, but he holds me still. “He kissed you, Bombshell?” And then he pinches my other nipple.
Oh, shit. “Ow!” I squirm away.
He pulls me back and resumes his task. “He kissed you? Did you slap him?”
“No,” I reply through the stinging sensations shooting up my breast. “Ah! I punched him in the face!” I laugh it out. “Spencer, stop. You jealous caveman. I’m not your girlfriend, remember? You should date Carson,” I squeal again. “Stop!”
My nipple is released and I take a breath.
“I am a jealous caveman, and don’t you ever forget it. You’re my Bombshell. And if that asshole wants to come into my town and think he can fuck with my woman, I’m gonna have to set him straight.”
I eye him carefully, trying not to read too much into what he just said. “Do you want me?”
“I’ve wanted you since the day I laid eyes on you. You know that.”
“Sometimes I forget, Spencer.” I say it softly, so I don’t hurt him. I’m done playing games. I just want to settle. I just want us to settle. I trace his lips with my fingertip. “It’s so hard to remember what it used to be like.”
He stares at me for a few seconds, his expression unreadable. “Maybe you need a reminder, then, eh?”
Fuck me, I silently mouth. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
He says nothing, but his hand does. It rests on my thigh, squeezing gently, and the wetness escapes my throbbing pussy. “Tell me, Bomb. Tell me what you want.”
I grab his hand and guide it to my sex, my fingertips holding his fingertip. I stroke myself with his finger. Back and forth. And then I slip inside myself, the walls of my pussy slick with want. His finger follows, pushing mine in further.
“Tell me, Ronnie.”
I melt at the name. He’s got so many names for me, but Ronnie—that’s the one that says I love you. I gather up the wetness on my finger then withdraw it and brings it to his lips. “Suck me, Spencer.” His tongue darts out and laps against my finger. And then he dips his mouth down to mine and gives me a taste as well.
I taste like lust. I taste like want. I taste like greed.
He watches my tongue as I lick his finger. “I’ve said every dirty thing imaginable to you over the years, Ron. We like it like that, don’t we? The dirty talk.”
I nod. “We do.”
“You know what else we like?”
My head shakes out the slightest no. It’s been so long since he’s looked at me like this. So, so fucking long since he’s had any kind of real conversation with me. So long since he’s said all the dirty things that tell me he loves me. I need it so bad. “Tell me what else we like, Spencer.”
His smile is small and crooked. Almost sad as he reaches over and laces his fingers in mine. “We like to hold hands too, don’t we?”
Oh, God. That was not what I expected. I swallow down the tears and nod.
He watches me struggle and then frowns and lets out a sad sigh. “We like to watch TV, too. Don’t we?”
I nod again. “Adult Swim and King of the Hill.”
He laughs for real at this. “Yeah, baby. You appreciate the cartoons like no other woman I know. What else do we like?”
A tear slips out and rolls down my cheek. His finger automatically swipes it away and then he presses his mouth into my ear and says, “Shhhh. Don’t cry, Ronnie. Just tell me what we like, so I can remember. Because I’ve lost my way, baby. I’m worried about so many things right now, I’m afraid I might’ve forgotten why I’m doing all this. Why I’m hurting you so badly. Why this Bobby guy gets to take you out when I can’t. So tell me, remind me why I’m doing this, Ronnie. Tell me what we like.”
“Trees,” I blurt before the sobs come out.
“We do like trees. You love me for my buckeyes, huh?”
That makes me giggle, but his expression remains serious. “Yeah,” I whisper. “We love the buckeyes. And we love beaches.”
“I love being on the beach with you, Bombshell.”
I can’t stop the tears now, they just stream down my face. “We like puppies, too.”
“Pound puppies, right?” He leans down and kisses my head. “We like to save them, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say as I wipe my nose.
“We’re gonna get a shitload of pound puppies once this is over, baby.” His gray eyes are darting back and forth across my face, studying me. “Tell me what else we love, Ronnie.”
“We love the country. And we’re gonna live on the farm.”
He leans down and kisses me gently on the lips. “Absolutely live on the farm. I’d never leave the farm. What else?”
“And have Sunday dinners with your parents.”
“Together,” he adds with a sigh. “For once. We’re gonna do that together. Keep going. Tell me all the things we like. Tell me all the things we’re gonna do when this is over, Ronnie. I want to hear it all. I want it burned in my brain when I leave here.”
“Line dancing.”
“We love the fuck out of line dancing, Bombs. I’m gonna take you dancing every week when this is over.”
He leans off to the side of me, resting his hand on my stomach and his head next to mine, making it clear that none of this is about sex. Or my body. Or our lust. He makes it clear that every bit of this is about us. Our dreams, our lives.
“Do we love kids, Ron?” he asks, so, so serious.
“I think we do, Spencer.”
“That farmhouse has a lot of rooms. We’re gonna need to fill them all up. There is nothing worse than a big empty house.”
“We hate empty houses, huh, Spencer?”
“Can’t stand them, Bomb. Our farmhouse will be busting at the seams with rowdy kids and pound puppies. Do we like boys or girls, Ronnie?”
“We like girls. You need a pack of princesses running around in ballet shoes.”
He’s silent for a long time after that. Maybe picturing it like I am. My eyes begin to get heavy. I want nothing more than to make this moment last forever, but his body pressed up against mine makes me content in a way I can’t even explain. He makes me feel safe and protected.
“I never cheated on you, Bomb. I took those girls out to trick people into thinking I didn’t care.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure how to feel about that.
He turns towards me and one hand comes up to cup my face. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want my mistakes to come back and hurt you. I’l
l die if something happens to you.” His eyes stare into mine and he swallows. “But I’m the one who’s been hurting you with this plan. And I just want you to know, Ronnie. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he says again. “It’s just… we’re in a lot of trouble, baby. And I hate to bring you in on it like this. But I don’t want you to think I never cared if something happens and I never get a chance to tell you—”
He stops and I’m crying all over again. I hug him close and bury my face in his chest. “Nothing’s gonna happen, Spence. It’s not, OK?” I look up, sniffling. “I love you too. And I feel the same way. I’d do anything for you.”
He kisses me on the nose and then scoots down the bed and starts taking off my fuck-me boots. “You’re gonna drive a minivan, Ronnie. And all my princesses will go to Catholic school. They’ll wear those little green and blue uniforms, Bombshell. And my daughters will wear pants, every fucking day. No tartan skirts for my little girls.”
I laugh at that and sigh as I picture it. “I’d do anything to make that dream come true. Anything.”
Spencer wraps me in his arms and holds me close. “I love you, Veronica. I love you more than I love myself. More than I love Ronin or Ford. More than the Team, Ronnie. I love you more than the Team. Much more. And I just need you to trust me a little bit longer, OK? I just need to keep you safe. I’ll tell you everything once it’s all over. But I can’t tell you anything right now, babe. Do you understand me?”
“I do, Spencer.”
And I really mean it. Because Bobby-slash-Tet and I talked the whole way home from the test. And he told me things tonight as well. Things I’m probably not supposed to know. Things Spencer would not want me to know. Things that need to be done to keep our dream alive.
I love Spencer just as much as he loves me and that’s why I’m gonna be Bobby Mansi’s backup. I have a job, and just like Spencer, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure we all come through the other end alive.
After a while Spencer’s hands find their way back to my body. We’re all talked out, so we show our love in different ways now. We show our love with kisses, and eye contact, and light dragging touches across bare skin.