Speed King (Men of Action)

by Ahren Sanders

  “Don’t get cold feet now. We’re almost there, and I didn’t buy these outfits for nothing,” Jewls sasses, waving down her body.

  We are identical in leggings, Chucks, mock turtlenecks, and beanies—all in black. “Why did you insist we wear these ridiculous outfits? We’re not getting out of the car.”

  “Because we’re on a stakeout and this seemed appropriate. If on the off chance we leave the car, we can blend into the night. Being a cop’s daughter, you should know the process.”

  “Jewls, criminals dress in all black when conducting crimes! We’re supposed to be doing an innocent drive-by to check the place out.”

  “Mmmhmm, you keep telling yourself that, Harley, but we both know why we’re here.”

  I snap my mouth shut because she’s right and there’s no point in arguing. We’re here because curiosity has seeped its way into my overly nosy brain. Achilles’ visit to Tom’s two nights ago left me aggravated and even more confused than ever. I felt more a part of his life during his first deployment to the Middle East than I do with him living in the same city. Then he shows up, looking heart-stoppingly gorgeous, and for a split second the air filled with the same heat we shared from the graduation. The way he hugged me close sent tingles shooting through my body. I wanted to stay that way, never leaving his arms. Those minutes were perfect until dickshit Glen came over and ruined the moment.

  He’s been trying to get my attention for weeks, but I’ve politely ignored his advances. To me, he’s harmless. The thunderous rage on Achilles’ face said otherwise.

  I wasn’t sure whether to shout with glee or fury at Achilles’ caveman attitude. Acting like an overprotective barbarian when he’s ghosted me for longer than I want to admit.

  The comment Glen made about the Casanova Club stuck with me, but I didn’t ask him more because he was drunk. When he brought it up again, warning me to be careful of the ‘Club’, while insinuating Achilles was a legend, my mind took off. I mentioned it to Jewls, and she went to work asking around and uncovering the rumors behind the name. Her persistent poking paid off when she hit up a group of cops that enjoyed a few too many and had no problem babbling. According to the tales, the four men earned the name Casanova Club during the first weeks at the academy. They mostly stuck to themselves, which didn’t surprise me, considering how close and private they are. They turned down invitations to go out, they never socialized, and the only place they ever hung out was the gym. One lady in the group told Jewls that the gym was where they made contacts. Women flocked to them and word quickly spread. The four of them had private parties at the ‘mansion on the hill’. Not one of them had any type of proof, but they all insisted that the whispers were true.

  Major, Ford, Talon, and Achilles are considered playboys who don’t share the wealth. Hence earning the name Casanova Club.

  I planned to mention it to Achilles, but he hadn’t been back to the bar. Instead, the last two nights, Talon and Major had come in, sat on the same stools, and stayed until Jewls and I left for the night.

  Jewls thought it was hilarious. She’s trying to convince me that Achilles orchestrated this because “he’s finally ready to get his stubborn, bullheaded, ridiculously self-righteous head out of his ass”—her exact words.

  I wanted to hope, to believe she may be on to something. But before I could allow myself to feel this, I needed to investigate the ‘Casanova’ mansion. Not that I believed these guys were egotistical playboys, but it was my way of justifying spying on them.

  We chose tonight because Achilles is working, and I knew if anything about the rumors proved true, at least they wouldn’t be confirmed by him bringing a woman home. I’m not sure I could handle witnessing him with someone else. Which is absolutely stupid since he’s free to live his life any way he chooses, including hooking up with random women night after night.

  “Well, shit.” Jewls slows down, pulling off into a small parking lot.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Look at that.” She points to the large stucco sign that reads ‘Whitman Estates’.

  “Shit,” I repeat her earlier sentiment. This neighborhood is pretty well-known and sought after. I’ve only been back here one time when Jewls and I attended a bridal shower. The houses are mansions on massive lots.

  “Are you sure you have the right address?” I question her, unbelieving that the guys live back here.

  “Yes, I memorized it off Talon’s driver’s license. Just to be sure, I snuck a look at Major’s, too, when he left it on the bar. This is the right place according to the navigation.”

  “I don’t understand. How can those four afford this? It has to be a mistake.”

  “Only one way to find out. Let’s ride through, then we’ll think of something.”

  She drives down the main road, and I relay the directions from her phone to their address. We hit the back of the neighborhood when their street comes into view. Daylight has turned to dusk, but it’s easy to make out the lone house on the hill that is the only one on this street. My jaw hits the floor at the sight.

  “Holy fuck, is that a compound?” Jewls reads my mind.

  “It looks like it.” The enormous two-story brick home sprawls out across the end of the cul-de-sac.

  “Considering it’s the only house, it’s hard to be conspicuous. How do we get close?”

  “Good question.”

  We sit quietly, staring until she jumps, twisting to the back seat and tossing a small bag in my lap. “There’s a pair of binoculars in there; grab them.”

  I hand them over to her. She scans right to left, chewing on her lip until I get nervous that someone may drive up and catch us creeping.

  “We need to go.” She drops the binoculars in my lap and reverses quickly.

  “What happened?”

  “One of the guys came out the front door and took off for a run. I think it was Talon, but can’t be sure.”

  “Hurry.” I panic, hoping like hell he doesn’t see us.

  “Calm down. He may be fast, but he can’t outrun my car. Hold on.” She swerves onto a street where a few lots are being cleared, then pulls behind a dumpster and turns off the car.

  “Why are you stopping here?”

  “Do you want to watch the house for a bit to see if anything happens?”

  “Like what?”

  “It’s Friday night. Talon, Ford, and Major aren’t working. If any speculation of the Casanova Club is true, then surely we will see something.”

  I flatten my hand to my stomach to ease the queasy ripple, my eagerness to spy turning to shame. “I'm not sure this is a good idea. We can’t even see the house, and it’s gotten darker.”

  “I think we can see the house if we go through that small patch of bushes.” She waves to a thick brush a little in front of the car.

  “We really are stalking, aren’t we?”

  “Aren’t you a little bit curious?”

  This is a rhetorical question because she knows the answer. My curiosity is the bane of my existence. I chew on my top lip and peer through the windshield to the brush. “Maybe just a peek…” I trail off because she’s already out of her door.

  I shove the binoculars and our phones in my hoodie and follow her quietly with the dim streetlights as our only light. When we get to the bushes, we have a clear view of the side of the house closer up. It is much more magnanimous at this angle—

  paved circular driveway, stone columns flanking the front patio, and grand double doors with light shining through. The question from earlier reruns on how these guys can afford a place like this.

  We mutter a few words about the house but remain mostly quiet. After what seems like forever, with no action, I finally sigh out loud.

  “Nothing’s happening. This was a crazy, stupid idea,” I whisper.

  “I have to agree. This is boring as fuck,” a male voice rumbles behind us, and I screech, tackling Jewls as if someone is attacking us. She squeals in response, reflexively pushing back until we’re
rolling on the ground.

  We do this for a few seconds, kicking, bucking, shrieking, and holding each other protectively.

  A bright light clicks on, and I am momentarily blinded when a firm hand tugs me to my feet. The flashlight moves to Jewls, whose eyes are wide and face smudged with dirt.

  “Talon! You asshole,” she yells, rocking to her knees and hauling herself up. “You scared the shit out of us.”

  He laughs a full, deep-in-your-gut roar that has me cringing. It’s bad enough we are busted, but his humor at our predicament is mortifying.

  “I couldn’t help it. You two were easy targets. Want to tell me why you’re sitting in the dark outside our house?”

  Neither of us answers, but Jewls is eyeing me for a good excuse. Which I can’t think of one because all I want to do is crawl into a ball and disappear. The flashlight comes to me, and I catch the white of Talon’s teeth with his wide smile.

  “What about you, Jay? You want to fill me in?”

  The first time I met Talon, he took my last name and slapped me with his own nickname. Jay stuck.

  “Not particularly.” I dip my head in disgrace.

  “How’d you find us?” Jewls tries to take the pressure off me.

  “Wasn’t hard. We have the whole place secured. Saw your car on the street and went for a run to check things out. At first, I thought it was nosiness until you pulled by the dumpster and jumped out of the car looking like you do.”

  “What’s wrong with the way we look?” she snips defensively. “We’re dressed perfectly incognito.”

  “Babe, you two couldn’t be incognito in Ghillie suits.”

  She raises her hand in the air to argue, and I speak up. “We know about the Casanova Club,” I blurt out.

  The smile on his face falls fast and transforms into a dark scowl. “Repeat that.”

  I shake my head.

  “Who the fuck told you about the Casanova Club?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Ace will lose his fucking mind and hunt down whoever spread that shit. He already wanted to rip Glen’s head off, but if he finds out that dumb fuck said anything, it’s going to be ugly.”

  “It wasn’t Glen,” Jewls protects the guy. He may be a nuisance, but he doesn’t deserve the wrath of Achilles.

  “So, you snuck out here on a Friday night to see for yourself if we have a revolving door of women because those fuckers we work with have nothing better to do than make up shit because we don’t fuck everything that moves? I can set you straight right now. None of it is true, but people like to talk.”

  God, I’m an idiot. I knew deep down these guys weren’t that type, but my freaking nosiness got me into trouble again. My shoulders sag, and I rack my brain for a plea to keep this from Achilles. “Maybe we can keep this between us?” I try weakly.

  “I’m not sure we can do that,” another voice comes from the side. Ford and Major step out, and a light flashes with the unmistakable sound of a camera click.

  “Oh my God!” I slap my hand to my forehead. “This is bad.”

  “Get over it, Harley, we’re caught. Now, what I want to know is how the hell you guys are living here.” Jewls throws attitude, not caring that our situation is ridiculous.

  They don’t answer and it dawns on me out of nowhere. “Ford!” I throw my finger his way. “Ford Whitman!”

  Why I didn’t put two and two together earlier is beside the point. Probably because I was too busy worrying about stupid lies that have no merit.

  “Can’t put anything past you. My family developed the land in this area. The house belongs to them. We’re crashing here for now.”

  “It’s spectacular.”

  “It serves a purpose.” He’s not nearly as impressed as we are.

  “You ladies want to come check it out? See for yourselves that we don’t have a harem hiding inside?” Talon returns to his teasing manner.

  “We don’t want to intrude. No need to completely ruin your Friday night. This is already bad enough.”

  “Ford and I have to work tomorrow, and we’re meeting Ace at the gym at seven a.m. Besides, this is quite entertaining.” He rocks back on his heels, enjoying my distress.

  “Jewls, give me your keys.” Major holds his palm out.

  “Why?”

  “I’m driving your car around. Go on inside the house.”

  “No, really—” I start.

  “I’m starving,” Jewls cuts me off. “Please tell me you men have some decent food. Being on a stakeout is grueling.”

  My stomach churns, wondering how she could think about food at a time like this. I glance over at the house, feeling uneasy about going inside when Achilles isn’t there. I’d much rather have an invitation from him.

  “What’s on your mind?” Ford steps close, asking quietly.

  “I feel like an idiot. I’m beyond embarrassed, and I’m not sure going inside is a good idea. It’s like an invasion of his privacy.”

  Ford pulls his lips through his teeth a few times, observing me as his eyes go soft with understanding. “I’m seeing what Amanda and Rich meant,” he utters so low I almost miss it.

  “What do you mean?” The mention of my parents sets my head spinning again. What do they have to do with anything?

  “Nothing.” He throws his arm around my shoulders and walks us forward. “We’re all friends, Jay. And I think you owe me a rematch.”

  “Rematch of wh—Oh my gosh! How do you remember that?”

  “I never forget an annihilation that bad. Waited a long time for payback.”

  “I haven’t played video games in forever.”

  “That means luck is on my side. I’ve spent years preparing for a rematch.”

  Nostalgia washes over me, remembering that weekend. What started as a sad affair with the funeral quickly became a favorite memory. Finally meeting these guys after years of hearing about them helped lift the sadness of the occasion. There was no awkward getting to know you stage; it was like we’d known each other forever.

  That meant something to me.

  Then there was the kiss… the kiss I’d been dreaming about since I was sixteen years old and fell in love with the rugged loner boy with the bad reputation. The same boy who lived a life of hell that he kept hidden in the dark.

  The schoolgirl crush I’d held on to all those years evolved into something much deeper.

  Then he walked away and left me again.

  “Hey.” Ford shakes my shoulder gently, bringing me out of my nostalgic haze. “You okay?”

  We’re standing at the foot of the steps, and I realize I missed most of the walk over. I shake my head and glance up at him, smiling the best I can. “I’m great. Thinking about my best strategy. It may have been years, but I’m not going down without a fight.”

  He scans my face, his eyes filled with sympathy. “You’re a shit liar, but I’ll let it pass because I have a feeling what you were actually thinking about.”

  “Probably,” I whisper, hoping he doesn’t push further.

  “I’m gonna say this, and if you ever repeat it, I’ll deny like fuck. But you need to hear it.” His expression grows serious.

  “What?” I hold my breath, waiting anxiously.

  “Ace is my guy, he’s my brother, and he’s a man I’d die for without thinking twice. There is no question of my loyalty. You know I’m crossing a line by telling you this. But give him a little more time, Jay. Don’t give up on him.”

  “Almost eleven years is a lot of time.”

  “There’s a reason for everything, and it’s his story to tell. But mark my words, don’t give up on him.”

  I want to push, I want to stand my ground and demand Ford elaborate, but it would be useless. He’s right. Loyalty is the blood vein of these guys and he won’t budge.

  So instead, I twist into his arms and press my head to his shoulder. “I’ll never give up on him,” I admit shyly, hearing the pathetic teenage girl make an appearance.

  “We doing this?”
His fingers poke into my side as his tone changes, the seriousness of the moment shifting.

  “Absolutely!”

  “Talon!” he yells, and the door flies open. “Fire up the game room. Time for a rematch.”

  Talon smiles wide, making a sweeping motion with his arm for us to hurry inside.

  I return his smile, jab Ford in the ribs, and escape his arms, jogging up the stairs.

  5

  Ace

  “Remind me not to volunteer for this shit again,” Major grunts.

  “No one asked you to come.”

  “No, but considering what happened at the gym, I think it’s best you have an alibi at all times.”

  I roll my eyes and turn onto our street, picking up the pace and leaving him behind as I run the last half-mile. My blood pumps harder, adrenaline pulsing through my veins. He may be exaggerating the situation, but he’s not all wrong. When Ford and Talon told me about Harley and Jewls’ visit last night, I didn’t react. But when they told me the reason for their driving all the way out here to investigate the fucking Casanova Club, I came close to losing my mind.

  I’m generally a pretty level-headed man. When I joined the Marines, I learned to control the temper that almost cost me everything my senior year of high school. Since then, it takes a lot to get a rise out of me. I’ve gotten a handle on controlled reactions. There are few exceptions.

  Harley is one of these exceptions.

  When I get to the house, I jog in place, slowing down and waiting for him to catch up. His expression is hard and eyes sharp as he approaches.

  “We done now?”

  “For now.” I rip my soaked shirt over my head, tucking it into my waistband, and grab the towel I left sitting on the porch table.

  Major does the same, breathing heavily as he wipes himself down. He follows me through the house and into the kitchen, mumbling his thanks when I toss him a bottle of water. I swallow most of the bottle in one gulp and catch his expression as he watches.

  “We’re in the house now, no need to monitor me.”

  “I’ve got something to say.”