It was a bright, sunny May day on Main Street when the hitmen came to town. From the window of the DeLacey Doily Café, cups paused, halfway to red lips that waited, open in anticipation. The ladies of the town, and that included me, all watched a squat, matt black Range Rover pound with a lot of noise and no hurry, up our quiet little main street. It stopped at the curb right opposite the café, in the tow-away zone. By the hydrant. Right next to officer Jacey.
A wicked smile stretched Jaycey’s thin, bloodless lips as she took out her fat little book of tickets and her cheap, scratchy ball-point pen.
Even from across the street we caught a flash of the driver’s dark, golden brown eyes over his black shades as he stepped around the car and tilted his red lips towards officer Jacey’s ear. Before she got a ticket ready to write he had loomed up, tall and black suited behind her shoulder.
Her neck flicked like there were hornets in her hair. Her eyes glazed when she turned to look in his face and we all saw her knees sag. His dark head low as he turned it to talk in her ear. Her shoulder went up and head cocked to one side like she was being tickled.
He said something else to her and her face flushed. Jacey fumbled as she put her book of tickets away in her back pocket. She jumped back when the passenger door opened and another dark haired man got out. From across the street they looked like they could be twins. Jaycey hurried, bustling away with her head shaking and low.
Both tall, broad, and dark in sharp black suits they wore bright white shirts with high, open collars. We all studied the huge, angular frames of the two men, dark silhouettes in the bright sun. Feet planted wide apart, they looked right in the café window. You could feel a thump of shock and the temperature in the café rose as a distinct perfume hit the air.
All of us, all of the ladies in the DeLacey Doily Café licked our lips slowly as we took in the tight Italian cut suits stretched hard over the bulges in front of their hips. And we all breathed in sharply as they stepped off the curb, heading right this way.
Even insolent, pouting little Kylie, the tattooed tart who hid in plain sight as the DeLacey Doily’s laziest waitress drew herself up straight, touched the back of her neck and lifted her chin towards the door as they approached.
The little bell jingled like a hysterical toy fire alarm as the door sprang open. They let it slam against the frame as they strode in the middle of the room.
The air in the café quivered as they stood and their eyes swept the room. I know mine were not the only thighs that shook and fell ever so slightly apart as they gazed around, tall and smoking hot. Their eyes cut across all of the ladies of the town and the first voice rolled like a massive bowling ball.
“Who knows where Hollis Cullen is?”
It took a moment for me to speak. My breath fluttered in my breast. These strangers, these huge hunks of raw animal power wanted something that I could give them. I felt the jealous gazes of all the other women in the café as their eyes swivelled my way.
When the ladies all looked at me I felt their thin breaths of envy, the two men looked me. Their hard eyes froze on me and held me. I could hardly move my eyes to look from one to the other and my stomach fluttered like a tiny sparrow, caught in a huge jar. Slowly then they looked at each other.
My mouth dried. There was a definite moment between them before their eyes turned back to me.
Should I have been so ready to take them to Hollis? In my girlish, unrealistic soul, I wanted to do whatever these two hunks wanted me to do. More than anything I wanted them to want me to do something for them.
Anything. Really. Anything. Some things maybe more than others. I knew that was just girlish fantasy, though. That kind of a thing would be with Hollis from the day we met and forever after till the day I died.
Hollis had been a ‘good catch’ when we were in high school, as my momma never failed to tell me, with Daddy nodding like a donkey behind her, watching me over her shoulder with his eyebrows raised.
Was Hollis the great ‘catch’ because he was the football star with the looks of a Michelangelo sculpture, a floodlight smile and the super magnetic personality that made everyone feel magical and alive, the man that every girl adored and every boy wanted to be? No.
Hollis was the ‘catch,’ because his daddy owned the lumber mill. The mill where my daddy and almost everyone else’s daddy worked. The mill that kept every other business in our little town in business.
With an ax and a cart when there was nothing here but the trees and a few cabins by the river, Hoagie started Cullen’s Lumber. Now, the town of Cullen has over fifty thousand inhabitants, all of them with a debt of gratitude to Hoagie Cullen. He carries debts of other kinds for most of them, too. Hoagie is not an easy man to like, but he’s almost impossible not to admire. I should know since he’s my father-in-law.
His son Hollis, my husband, on the other hand, was impossible to like and I never heard of anyone admiring him. Not after they’d actually met him.
A rustle went around the café as the two men prowled towards me and stopped to stand on either side of me. Uncomfortable I looked up, but I couldn’t see their eyes through their dark shades. Then I couldn’t stop my gaze from following the flys of their white shirts, down to the dull gleam of expensive looking belt buckles and on down to the strained Italian fabric at my eye level.
Their manner was polite and my thoughts were distinctly not. A thing that Hollis has made me do, that I never would have done if he hadn’t forced me, that I thought disgusting. He made me do it all the time, and always complained about how I did it. How I had no ‘enthusiasm’ for it. And I didn’t. Not until a shocking half a second ago. My throat tightened and I had to moisten my lips. Little Kylie glowered at me with hot pokers in her eyes.
The broader of the men was on my left. With a graceful, soft New England brogue he said, “Would you take us to him, Miss?”
And the other said, with the trace of a Pennsylvania twang, “If it isn’t any trouble to you.”
They were on either side of me as I stood and I felt light-headed. There was an air of danger about these men, something that troubled the air, but one touched my hand. The touch was soft, but a shudder like a sonic boom went off deep inside me.
At the same time I felt the warmth of the other man as his accent breathed softly into my ear, “We’re here. You’re alright now.” For a moment I could only stand still. A need came over me and my eyelids fluttered as I moistened my lips.
There was nothing I wanted more than to lead these two lusty, dangerous men out of the café, in front of all the small town’s fine ladies. And nothing I wanted less than to take them to my husband.
As the two men in black followed me back out into the hot sun, a long sigh dragged out of the women in the café at once.
Chapter Three
LIAM AND DECLAN watched Courtenay from behind as she led them out of the café, and passed a couple of looks back and forth between them as they did. They watched her get into her Toyota and wait for them as they crossed the street. Liam handed the keys to Declan and he got in the driver’s side of the Range Rover.
Laim said, “She seems like a nice woman.”
Declan looked over at him and laughed. “Do you never fucking say what you mean?”
Liam laughed. “Okay I'll tell you what she is. She’s a fucking dynamite little piece of ass. Are you satisfied now?”
Declan started the engine as she pulled out. Following behind he said, “After watching the ballet that her tits and ass make, no, Liam. I’m not satisfied and I think I may well not be for some time.”
“She’s a gorgeous woman with a naughty sparkle in her eye, did you see that?”
Declan licked his lips as he drove. “When I was able to get my eyes out of the front of her dress and my mind out of her panties, yes, I clocked the little gleam of mischief in her emerald eyes. Now that you come to mention it, I did.”
“This Hollis,” Liam said, frowning, “From all that I can see, he seems like a total as
shole. He sells the skankiest bullshit drugs, and he wants us to whack one of his own dealers.”
“That’s right,” Declan chewed the inside of his cheek. “I guess he thinks that will make him the big number one gangster here in Zitville.”
Liam’s head shook. “Hasn’t got the balls to do it himself, but he still thinks he’s going to be top dog, calling in some out of town help.”
“Sounds too dumb to live, right?”
Liam said, “Just supposing, alright, just for a moment imagine that we offered to off the fuckup for her. What do you think the ripe and juicy Mrs Cullen might say?”
Declan’s voice was serious. “It’s business, Liam. Don’t go getting off track now. We’re here to do a job.”
“I know.” Liam’s voice was sad, “All these sketchy little nothing towns, though. Wouldn’t it be something just once to pick up a souvenir?”
Chapter Four
IN THE POLISHED wood hallway of our Georgian fronted house, the taller of them, Pennsylvania, said, “What the hell’s a woman like you doing with a piece of shit like Hollis Cullen?”
I thought, You don’t think I’ve been asking myself that very same question, every hour of every goddamned day? But I said sharply, as sharply as I could at least, “I told you, I’m his wife.”
“Well, Mrs Cullen,” the sparkle in the other man’s New England twang made everything seem light, no matter what he said. It was like a soft, lilting song. A country breeze. “You got some surprising taste in men, that’s all that I’ll say about it.”
I told him, “Taste didn’t come into it.” A sour note had crept into my voice. Why I should have opened up like that, exposed myself to these two strangers, I had no idea. All that I knew was how liberating it felt.
Pennsylvania leant towards me a little, raised a mocking eyebrow, “You mean you just married him for his money?”
My lips pursed as I slapped his face. Hard.
He said, “I suppose I should take that for a ‘no,’ would you say, Liam?”
He touched his cheek where I’d hit him and it colored up. My fingers stung. It hadn’t displaced his sarcastic grin, though, it still glimmered, making me want to do it again. Slap him even harder.
My lips pulled between my teeth as the tingling sting on my fingers faded. As it went I wanted to feel the hardness of his face again. The other man looked at him long and hard. He had said his partner’s name. How I knew that was what his look meant, I don’t know, but I was sure of it. The knowledge was like the echo of a big bell, deep underwater.
Maybe it was just a name they used when they were working, like in that old movie where the bad guys call each other, ‘Mr White’ and ‘Mr Pink.’ And the who’s one called ‘Mr Pink’ kicks off about it.
In our hallway was a full length mirror and I watched the reflection of Pennsylvania’s eyes over the tops of his shades. They snaked up the backs of my legs. Where his eyes peered, I trembled.
Slowly following how the sheen of gunmetal nylon hugged the sweep of my calves, the soft valleys behind my knees, his gaze stroked up the now zinging curves of my thighs. His tongue slipped out along his lips as he checked my inner thighs a second time and came at last to rest around my ass.
He blinked slowly. When his eyes flashed open, they went straight into mine and a depth charge went off in the pit of my stomach. Hot molten lava spilled out into my panties.
They prowled around the kitchen. Then the mess that Hollis calls his office. Pennsylvania sent New England to look upstairs. I heard his footsteps in the hallway, in the bathroom. The spare room. Then in our bedroom.
Pennsylvania was standing near and the heat of his body penetrated my thin dress. My throat caught as I inhaled the spicy cologne and the sweet manly scent of him behind it. His breath was near enough for me to taste. As it crept across my tongue, I wished I could run my lips up along the column of warm, sweetened air. Slip my tongue up along it until, stretched on my tiptoes, my lips reached his.
Since my marriage I had successfully banished thoughts of that kind. I had been proud of myself, even though I knew that it was only because all the men in this town were such beige and flimsy specimens. My pride at resisting any and all temptations fell to the floor like the waft of a silk slip now, as I realized that I had been able to appear so very strong, only because the temptations were all so very untempting.
The rough mechanic with the glow in his eyes who rounded on me in the dark corner of the garage, his dirty face, his glistening, oily scents stirred me inside my lacy panties, but passing up his offer of ‘an exciting layaway payment plan’ was no challenge.
When the mayor cornered me in a council chamber and offered ‘favors for favors,’ I was proud of how delicately I told him that I would consider it. The flatness in my voice and a slow shuttering of my eyelids let him understand that it would never happen in his lifetime. His dignity and mine were all intact. Wasn’t I smart?
No. If Pennsylvania had cupped his fingers then and made an impatient upward insistence, or if he had warmed my throat with his breath as he blew a grossly improper suggestion into my ear, if any of that happened and I had resisted, then I really would have shown some strength.
Inside I felt torn in two between a fearful hope that he would do nothing of the kind, and a hunger to beg that he did. Under no circumstances did I want to be unfaithful to my husband, however cruel and undeserving he was. But at that moment, I had a lot of trouble remembering why.
All the way from the café I had tried to pretend these two men were just businessmen. Insurance salesmen or men from the bank, coming to talk to Hollis about a loan or some investment or something like that.
Their manner was business alright but whatever it was, I didn’t think for a second that it was any legal business. Once I remembered hearing of a bank robber who smiled when he took the money. Suave and good-looking, he was polite and thanked the tellers nicely as he made them empty their drawers for him.
When they were interviewed and they talked about him, the women who worked behind the counters in the banks, the women he’d robbed, blushed and hid their eyes behind fluttering lashes.
New England and Pennsylvania were just how I imagined the charming robber. Easy and relaxed. Big, loose-limbed, fit and confident but without a lot of swagger. Capable and knowing it. They could do whatever they liked and they’d get away with it.
They looked smoking hot in their expensive suits but what made them so very sexy was their manner, their ‘do-whatever-I-want’ assurance. ‘Do-whatever-I-fucking-want,’ is how Pennsylvania would say it. There isn’t a man in this dry, dusty town that has ever made my pulse pick up the way that these two easy killers did.
Pennsylvania said, “We kind of expected Hollis to be waiting for us.”
“It’s disappointing,” New England said, “I have to say. Usually we expect that the formalities will be observed.”
“Can I get you gentlemen some coffee?” I asked them brightly, covering the catch in my voice as best I could.
“Ah no, but thanks all the same,” said New England with a polite smile. DNA I thought. They don’t want to leave traces. My mind was forever making up stories like that, making something dramatic out of an ordinary situation. Hollis hated it, so mostly I kept it to myself.
“Just call him.” Pennsylvania said, “Say there’s somebody here wants to talk to him. That’s all you have to say.”
I reached into my purse for my phone. Liam put his hand on mine. My insides quaked at his touch, like a trapdoor over a deep old well dropped open inside me, and my stomach fell straight into the chasm. For a moment, I missed what he was saying to me as my eyes reached around for his.
“Use the house phone.”
“Yes. Okay,” my knees were unsteady.
Pennsylvania touched my shoulder and he asked, “Is there somewhere we could wait for him? Somewhere that we wouldn’t be in your way?” I swallowed.
“Come with me.” I showed them into the lounge at the back w
ith the conservatory. They’d have a nice view over the garden and up to the woods. They could see the pool and the grounds. Like they’d care. They looked at everything as though they were being shown around the inside of a doll’s house.
“Make yourselves at home,” I told them, “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get for you?”
Pennsylvania’s eyes travelled up my calves and my thighs, made themselves comfortable around the hem of my black skirt. Then they had took a tour of my blouse. My chest heaved hard as he openly studied my breasts and he almost licked around my ear with his eyes.
When his eyes finally reached mine he said, “Nothing. Really, Mrs Cullen,” In a voice that you knew meant the exact opposite of whatever he said.
As I broke away and looked at his companion, I could see that he’d been enjoying a long, lingering look at me, too. My cheeks and my chest prickled as I colored up. The bra felt tight and constricting and my nipples hardened, sore in their captivity.
Two Hitmen: A Double Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Lawless Book 1) Page 2