by Forgy, M. N.
“Fuck you, too, Machete. I’m your president. You’re supposed to be here to back me up, not ask fucking questions.” Looking up, Machete leans his head back and inhales a large breath.
“I hope she’s worth everything you’re about to receive, brother.”
Mac’s eyes go wide as he looks at Jacob’s phone.
“Oh, shit, man…”
“What?”
He tosses me the phone. Opening it, there are dozens of pictures of me and Jillian. Some of us fucking in the living room, some of us sleeping in her bed. The guy has been stalking us.
“Why would he take pictures of you?” Mac sneers.
“Because, he thought if he brought back the fact that he was sleeping with a sheriff, Frank would protect him.” Felix shoots me a look that speaks volumes.
“You know what you’re doing, brother?” Mac asks.
“I asked him the same fucking thing. It took this dumb shit only a short time to figure out you’re sleeping with the enemy. How much longer do you think this gig is going to go before this shit blows up?”
“We don’t have time for this, not right now. How do we get this body out of here?”
“I don’t know. We need to move it without anyone noticing.” Mac looks over the body.
Machete rubs his hands together like an evil villain.
“We’re going to need bleach, vinegar, an axe, and a bunch of duffle bags.”
“Felix, call the doctor.” I point at him.
“For what?” He looks me over.
“Jillian’s neck is cut. I want him to look it over.”
“Don’t you think enough people are involved in this shit? Is her pussy that—”
Without another thought, I slam my fist into his face, his head whipping to the side.
Machete grabs me by the arms, pulling me away.
“Get the fuck off.” I shake him away and point at Felix. “You’re my brother, and I love you, but, you don’t talk about my property that way!” I roar, my face inches from his.
Slowly, he turns his head toward me and spits blood onto the floor.
“Your what? Have you lost your fucking mind?!” he screams back.
“Wow, you really like this bitch, don’t you.” Machete looks astounded.
Closing my eyes, my fingers flexing, I glare at him. “Let’s just get this shit cleaned up.”
Jillian
Sitting on my couch with Jinx in my lap, I watch Machete leave.
“Call the doctor now,” Zeek orders Felix.
“I’m fine.” I stand, placing my hands in the little pouch of my hoodie.
“See, she’s fine.” Felix points at me, looking at Zeek in the kitchen.
“She’s not fine.” Mac shakes his head, eyeing my neck.
Zeek steps from the kitchen, his eyes shooting daggers at me. “You have blood dripping on your shirt, Jillian. You’re not fine.”
“I can go to the hospital then.” I gesture toward the door. Getting out of here doesn’t sound like a bad idea right about now.
“See, she can go to the hospital.” Felix raises his brows.
“She can’t go to the hospital, Felix.” Mac rolls his eyes.
“You know the hospital asks questions. Fucking call him, Felix.” Zeek’s voice is strained, borderline hostile.
Felix sighs and pulls a phone from his pocket. I can tell Felix doesn’t like me. The way he glares at me, his lip curling every time Zeek is near me. Well, the feeling is mutual, buddy.
Zeek grabs a tissue from the shelf and dabs at my neck. Pain shoots up my jaw, and I hiss.
“Dr. Stein is on his way.”
Taking the tissue from him, I nod and sit back on the couch.
Felix and Zeek head back into the kitchen, but Mac sits next to me. Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, he’s got this pretty boy look to him. He seems so out of place with Zeek and the rest of his brothers. Mac looks like he should be on the front of a clothing magazine or something.
“I can see why he likes you.”
“Excuse me?” I turn my head, looking at him full-on.
“You’re hot. Got this angelic thing about you. Being next to you, I just want to take that halo and set it on fire.”
Swallowing hard, I pull on my shirt nervously. How the hell did I get to this point, the place where a bunch of bloodthirsty criminals are in my house and a body in my kitchen?
“Mac, you hitting on my girl?” Quickly, we both look behind us.
“Nah. I was just playing nice.” His voice comes off eerie, laced with a touch of psycho. I see now how he fits into the Sin City Outlaws.
“Get your ass in here, and away from her.”
Mac looks back at me, the smile I thought was genuine now creepy.
“Gotta follow orders.”
Minutes pass—fifteen, maybe, but I can’t be sure—before Machete steps back into my house, humming. My eyes widen when I see a large machete over his shoulder, and I look at Zeek.
“Zeek, I was joking about you hacking him up in my tub!”
“Oh, do you want us to do it in the tub? If we keep it in the kitchen, it’s easier to clean up. We won’t have to wipe the evidence from both rooms that way,” Machete explains casually. Eyes wide, I slide them toward Zeek. What. The. Fuck?
Fear wracks my body to the point my hands begin to tremble.
“This, this is the guy everyone talks about. The ruthless, bloodthirsty outlaw. The one everyone fears, but I… I seemed to see straight through that and see the good in you,” I whisper, my fingers clenching my hoodie.
“Go ahead, boys.” Zeek steps around the couch and grabs my shoulders.
“That’s where you fucked up, Jillian. Every wolf has bite. Don’t be blinded by my kindness. I’m no choir boy, and never will be.”
Cupping my chin roughly, he kisses it.
“Now, I’ve got a mess to clean up.”
Sitting on the couch, I pet Jinx, wondering what the hell I’m thinking.
My mind drifts to what’s going on in my kitchen.
I should run.
I should pass out in terror.
I should be disgusted with Zeek.
But I don’t, and I’m not. Because I love him, and love is blind. My heart beats wildly, the rest of my body warming as hot as my cheeks when I realize I just silently said I loved Zeek. Raising my hand, I rub at my chest, rising and falling rapidly as my breathing becomes harsh. I love Zeek, a killer, a ruthless animal. One who is just in the other room chopping up a body, covered head to toe in someone else’s blood. That is the man I fell in love with.
“Here, you might want this.” Looking up, Machete places a glass of wine on my coffee table. His hair is so red, his stubble matching.
He sits next to me, taking me by surprise.
“I’m guessing this kind of thing is new to you?”
Accepting the glass, I take a large sip, swallowing my feelings and thoughts. Love, shock, fear.
Looking over the rim of the glass, Machete stares at me, waiting for a response.
“You could say that. I’m used to dead bodies, but dead ones in my kitchen? That’s a new one.”
“He’s rough around the edges, but he must feel something deep for you. ‘Cause he wouldn’t be with you, otherwise.”
I take another sip, not sure what to say.
“He saved me. Gave me a home when I didn’t have one. Well, I had one. I had in-laws of that cheating cunt. They didn’t count, though. I didn’t see what I was missing out on until Zeek found me.” He pats my back, and I still. “Don’t hurt him.” His words come out rough, his eyes narrowed with a dark promise that if I fuck up, I’ll pay. My lungs cease to function.
“Anyway…” He looks at the TV, nodding toward it. “You might want to turn that on.” His tone is back to nice and casual.
I don’t move.
I watch as he flips my TV on and steps toward the kitchen.
“Nice chat.”
During the next thirty minutes, I
can hear sounds I’ll never get out of my head. Sounds I’d only heard in scary movies, ones that seemed very much accurate, till now.
The way a blade hacks into bone. It’s something that will haunt me forever.
I down my glass of wine and quickly ask Zeek for another.
“Here, take the bottle.” He places it on the table, his hand in a tight latex glove, with blood smeared from his fingertips to his elbow.
I nod, and don’t look up any further.
The boys carry duffle bags out of the kitchen. Moments, later the smell of bleach strong.
Me? I’m well on my way to drunk, my sanity out the fucking window.
“Doctor’s here,” Machete announces, heading back into my house with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Normally, I’d tell him there’s no smoking in here, but considering the things that have happened the last few hours… smoke is the least of my worries.
“Dr. Stein,” Zeek greets. “I need you to look at her neck for me, please.”
“Why, yes, of course, Zeek.”
A man with short brown hair sits on my coffee table. “Let’s see what we have here.” He sets a white doctor bag on the floor. He fingers my chin, his hands cold as ice. Pushing my chin upwards, he looks over the cut.
“It’s a pretty good cut, but it won’t need stitches. We’ll use a butterfly on it, and it’ll close it up nicely.”
He cleans it, which stings like a bitch, his tongue sliding back and forth over his bottom lip as he works. He then places the butterfly over it, pulling it closed. It’s very uncomfortable, to say the least.
“If it doesn’t stop bleeding, please call me. We might have to do stiches. Will you require any pain meds?” He pulls out a booklet.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Does she need it?” Zeek cuts in, standing behind the couch.
“Well, it could get uncomfortable in the next day or so. I would try some pain reliever, but if she thinks she’s okay then so be it. If it doesn’t work, though, you know where to find me.” Dr. Stein nods at Zeek then closes his bag and stands.
“Thank you for coming.” Zeek hands him a stack of cash, and my mouth pops open. “I need there to be complete discretion when it comes to this house call.” Zeek doesn’t ask, his tone of voice demands it.
“Yes, of course.” Dr. Stein takes the cash, and steps out.
Closing the door, Zeek blows out a tired breath.
“Where are the guys?”
“They cleaned up and left.” Huh, I didn’t even hear them leave. “You okay?” Swallowing hard, I nod slowly then shake my head, tears spilling from my eyes like a waterfall.
“I’m angry.” My words take me by surprise.
“Angry?”
I nod, my heart fluttering in my chest like a trapped bird.
“Angry ‘cause after seeing what I have the last few hours, I should hate you, be scared or mortified.” He steps to me, and I have to look up. “But I don’t, not even a little bit. I-I’m…” I stutter then stop, scared of the words that are about to slip from my mouth. Horrified the words hit me so hard, and that they are true.
“I’m fucking insane!” I sob. “We barely even know each other, but I love you.” I shrug, tears spilling onto my lips.
He grabs my hand, pulling me up as I continue. “I was raised and trained to live by the code of the law. Yet, the things I was just a part of…” I pause, wiping my face and looking for the right words. “I’m not scared of what just happened. I’m scared because what just happened doesn’t affect me like it should.”
“You don’t realize the savage acts you’re capable of until you are backed into a corner. You just have to broaden your outlook on what’s right and wrong to find your place.”
My eyes well with new tears, his words holding so much meaning and truth behind them.
“What seems like chaos to the little girl is normal to the wolf.”
He wipes my tears away this time, his eyes fixated on them. It’s almost like he likes it when I cry.
“I love you, too,” he whispers, his lips brushing against mine, his tongue tasting my tears.
“What?” His words catch me off-guard.
“You heard me.” He nips at my bottom lip. “I may not be that guy every girl hopes to fall in love with. I’m rough, dark, and violent. But I fucking love you, and that’s all that matters.” He grips my face, making me look into his eyes. “I don’t do anything soft, and I sure as hell won’t love you softly. I’ll love you hard, and unforgiving.”
Nodding, I swallow hard. He says he doesn’t love softly, but my whole body just melted for him. I wish he and I could run away, and just be us.
“I wish we never came back from our date. I just want to get lost in the desert, with Hershey Kisses.” I close my eyes, the alcohol making me say shit that makes no sense.
“I have one left.” He unwraps it and skims it across my bottom lip, hands that were covered in blood moments before now clean.
Parting my lips, I take the chocolate in. Before I can close my mouth around it, Zeek slams his against mine hard. As if he’s hungry, the violence of the night turning him on, my tears making him unstable.
I close my eyes and take it all in. The smell of him. The feel of his hands in my hair. The taste of chocolate and him filling my mouth. This, this is my escape from my racing thoughts. This is my remedy to my chaotic life. This… is why love is blind.
“Now, let’s go fuck,” he whispers into my mouth.
My eyes pop open, and I stare at him like he’s lost his mind.
“Killing a guy and fucking my girl in a bed. I can’t think of a better way to end a date.”
Chapter 18
Jillian
“I gotta go to the club. Stay home today.” Still half-asleep, I yawn and nod before drifting back to sleep once again.
* * *
Waking up this morning, Zeek was gone. My neck itches and is irritating me. The smell of bleach is still lingering, but not nearly as strong. Kicking the blankets off me, I head into the kitchen, looking at where it all happened. You can’t even tell there was a body in here. That a pool of blood was congealing right next to my fridge. Images of blood-stained hands and Zeek fucking me wobble into my vision.
I clench my eyes shut, willing it all to go away.
I need to work.
I need to get out of here.
I get dressed and head in.
Walking into the department, I find my father’s office.
I begin to sweat, scared he can see the unlawful things I’ve been a part of over the last few days.
“Deputy Adams, what are you doing in?”
“I need to work. I can’t stay at home, sir,” I respond formally. I’m not telling him exactly why, though.
“No, I said to take the week off. I meant it.”
“I’m better. I need to be back at what I do best.”
He lifts his head, his shoulders rising with a large breath.
“I get it, the restlessness. I’ll tell you what. You can work, but I’m going with you today. I want to make sure you’re fully capable of fulfilling your duties. If I see otherwise, we will return back here, and you will take the week off. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” I want to roll my eyes, but don’t. It’s better than nothing.
“Good. I’m driving.”
* * *
As the day goes by, we get an attempted suicide call, a break-in, and a domestic dispute. I got to use my Taser at the domestic dispute, so that was the highlight of my day. Some cracked-out man was getting rough with his wife, and when we interfered he attacked a fellow officer. I reacted accordingly.
“You ready for some dinner?” Lieutenant Oaks asks.
“Yeah, I could eat.”
My phone chimes, catching my attention as we get out of the car at a Chipotle.
You good? - Z
I ignore his text, because I know he doesn’t want me at work. Not because he’s being a controlling asshole, bec
ause he is, but because he’s worried about me.
“All right, old man. If we eat here, you lay off the hot sauce.” I muster a smile.
When Lieutenant Oaks doesn’t respond, I look over at him, finding him frowning at his phone.
“Dad?” His head snaps my way.
“Yeah, sounds good. Let’s eat.”
I tilt my head to the side, concerned. He seems off.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He masks a smile, but I can tell it’s fake. “After this, let’s head back to the department.”
“Why?” I’ve done awesome today; there’s no reason I can’t work.
“Because I said so!” he yells, and I blanch in response. What the hell? “Look, I just need to get some paperwork done. After this, we’ll head back.”
“Fine,” I respond tight-lipped. This is bullshit.
“What happened to your neck?” he asks casually.
Touching the cut, my cheeks redden.
“Jinx scratched me.”
Zeek
After taking a shower at the club, then changing into my last clean pair of clothes, I grab my keys to head back to my place. I need more clothes, maybe grab something to eat.
Before I can make it out of my room, the door bursts open and Felix flies in.
“Uncle Frank knows!”
“Knows what?” There could be a dozen things he found out; I keep a lot of shit from him.
“One of the prospects said he ordered your men to kill a deputy. Who else could it be?”
“What!” All the blood in my body floods to my feet.
“That Gentry fucker must have sent those pictures to him, or called him. Something.”
I rub at the back of my neck, sweat building quickly on my forehead.
“Fuck.”
“He’s going to kill her, then you!”
“He won’t, Cross will. Where’s Cross?” If he’s with Uncle, then I know Jillian is safe.
“Um, with your uncle last time I saw him.”
“I’m going to go pay him a visit. See how much he knows.”
“That would be stupid. You need to run, Zevin!”
“Fuck that, I don’t run.” I slam my fist against my chest. If anyone’s running, it’s Frank. “This is my club, not his, and I’m about to fucking take it back.”