by Jay McLean
“Did this happen to you, Ky?” she asks, picking up her notepad.
“It’s just a hypothetical.”
“And you think that, hypothetically, one guy died and one came home, and there’s a reason for that?”
“No.” My shoulders slump. “Yes. I mean maybe. Like maybe I was supposed to cross paths with somebody that needed me. Like maybe I needed to save her. Madison and I—we’re very similar people. We both have shitty pasts, and we’re both trying to find a way to change that. Because in the end—I think we’re both struggling with the realization that the past doesn’t create us.” I take a moment, gathering my thoughts. “I don’t think it’s our pasts that define us, and it’s not even our life’s final destination. It’s everything we do in between, the actual living, that creates who we are.”
***
Madison ended up in my bed last night. We didn’t do anything, not physically. But that doesn’t mean that we didn’t connect. We faced each other—holding tight to what seemed like the only thing that made sense in our world—us.
We spoke for a long time, and afterward, we both knew where we stood. For me—I’d give her everything, and in return, she promised to give me as much as she could. And that was enough. For now—and for as long as she needed it to be.
DeLuca had called once she’d fallen asleep in my arms. I spoke quietly into the phone. “Meet me at Club Zero in an hour, you can bring that girl of yours,” he’d said. I had almost hung up on him and called Jackson. I’d wanted to tell him to call the whole thing off—that I wanted out. It didn’t seem important at that moment—not after learning about Madison’s life.
The case, the need to ruin someone, the revenge—it seemed so trivial, so insignificant.
Instead, I’d told DeLuca it wasn’t a good night. I’d said that my girlfriend wasn’t feeling well. “Madison?” he’d asked after a beat. “Is she sick?” The concern in his voice seemed genuine, and I’d wondered for a moment who the fuck Nate DeLuca was. Who he really was. As a person. And why he’d chosen the life of organized crime over anything else. “No. Not physically,” I’d told him.
He’d agreed and asked if we could meet the next night. To say that I was surprised was an understatement. For the first time since I’d met him, I wondered if he were crazy.
Legit, certifiable, bipolar-type crazy.
“Sure,” I’d said, not wanting to push my luck.
I’d spent the rest of the night deep in my own thoughts. Thoughts of Madison, of me, of us together. I’d even thought about Jackson and DeLuca, and the case. And then I’d done something I’d never let myself do—I’d thought about Christine and how much I missed her. How it’d be so easy to pick up the phone and call her. How it would feel to hear her voice. And then I’d thought about the guilt and the shame that came with all of it, and I just couldn’t.
I couldn’t take it back.
I couldn’t make it right.
And I sure as hell couldn’t face her.
***
“So where are we going?” Madison asks, her eyes scanning the numerous dresses she has laid out on my bed.
“Just a club a few blocks from here. We’ll catch a cab. It’s cold out.”
Her gaze moves to mine. “I’ve never been to a club before.”
“Really? Never?”
She shrugs, and then looks back down at her clothes. “Who are we meeting?”
“Just a friend.” I finish slipping on my shoes and kiss her temple. “Just pick one, babe, you look hot in anything.”
She smiles. “You choose.”
I pick the closest one and hand it to her. “Don’t take too long or we’re going to be late.”
She comes out of the bedroom an hour later and I almost kick myself for not checking her clothes properly. Bright red. Strapless. Hugs every single curve. Barely covers her ass. “Maybe you should change.”
“Ky!” she almost yells. “It took me forever to get ready and you chose this—”
“I’m kidding!” I’m not. “Let’s go before I strip that dress off of you with my teeth.”
She raises an eyebrow in challenge.
“Don’t tempt me, Maddy.”
She giggles the entire cab ride to the club while watching me squirm in my seat. The way she’s dressed—the way she looks at me—the way her fucking hand slowly creeps up my thigh...she loves the power. Thrives on it.
Me? I’m just doing everything I can to not take her right here and now. “If I get into a fight with an asshole that looks at you the wrong way, or looks at you period—call Jackson. He’ll bail me out.”
She laughs, but I’m dead serious. I even make her save Jackson’s number in her phone.
Ky: I’m at Zero.
DeLuca: Got caught up, I’ll be there in ten.
I get carded at the door. The bouncer takes one look at Madison and lets her through.
We walk through a narrow hallway to get to the club doors. “The walls are vibrating,” she says, her hand pressed against the wall.
The music intensifies tenfold when we step into the club. She stops in her tracks and winces, covering her ears and plastering her face to my chest.
I hold her head in my hands and tilt it back, my eyes scanning her face. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s too loud!” She presses her hands firmer against her ears. “It hurts!”
My eyes narrow as I take in her state. She looks like she’s in genuine pain. I want to leave, but I already told DeLuca I was here. “Can you deal with it for fifteen minutes?”
“I think so,” she shouts.
“Let’s get a drink, okay? It might help.”
She nods.
I use my chest to block one of her ears and my hand to cover her other one. At the bar, I order two shots of whiskey and hand one to her. We stay in the same position while we down them.
“You okay, babe?”
Her face scrunches in discomfort. I press both my hands to her ears and she covers them. She nods in answer. “You’re so damn cute,” I tell her. She responds by getting on her toes and kissing me quickly. She tastes like whiskey. After a moment, her hands loosen, and she pulls away. “Another one,” I mouth. She smiles, knowing exactly what I want. She kisses me again, her hands now on my chest. Mine remain on her ears, hopefully blocking out enough of the music. She slowly relaxes and leans into me, letting me drown in the taste of her. There’s a moment of silence while the songs change, but she doesn’t notice. She keeps her lips on mine, curled into a smile as we try to maintain the flow of our kiss—the same flow we’re now so accustomed to. Her arms wrap around my waist, bringing me closer to her.
A thump on my back has me stumbling forward. We pull apart, just as I shove at the body standing beside me. Madison squeals, her hands covering her ears again. “What the hell’s your problem?” I shout, but my attention’s on Madison. I pull her into my chest again, covering her ears with a second barrier.
“I was trying to get your attention,” a deep male voice shouts back. I look up to see DeLuca; jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. “Looks like you were both too pre-occupied,” he says, his eyes on Madison. He jerks his head at her. “What’s her problem?”
I look at Madison. My shirt hides most of her face, but I can see her eyes squeezed shut. I switch my attention back to DeLuca. “Can we make this quick? It’s too loud in here for her. It’s hurting her ears.”
“Huh,” he says, still fixated on her.
“Anytime you want to quit staring at my girlfriend would be perfect.”
His eyes move back to me. “Sure.” He taps at his phone quickly. I wait impatiently. A few seconds pass, then he motions with his head for us to follow. Madison stays plastered to my side as he leads us to the back of the club and into an office that has to have been sound proofed. I release Madison, and she slowly removes her hands from her ears. We sit down on the couch in the corner of the office while DeLuca watches her intently. “Better?” he asks her.
She nods.
“Do you need a drink or anything?”
She smiles awkwardly. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“You sure?”
I interrupt their little back and forth. “Why did you want to meet?”
He rubs the back of his head and looks at Madison again. “Um...” His gaze flicks back to me; then he blows out a heavy breath and shakes his head. “It’s not important, man. I’ll text you. Just get her out of here.” He taps his phone a few times. “A cab’s waiting out back. It saves you from going through the club again.”
“Thanks,” I say, but all I can think about is the attention he’s paying to Madison. A tiny part of me is grateful—but the rest of me is pissed.
She mentions her ears are still ringing while we’re in a cab heading home. As soon as we get into my apartment, she goes straight to the bedroom. She strips out of her clothes, leaving her in nothing but her bra and panties and climbs into bed, throwing the covers over her head. I pull out my phone and start looking up how to treat ringing ears when a text comes through from DeLuca.
DeLuca: Call me when you can.
“Babe, I got to make a call. Will you be okay?”
Her hand pokes out from under the sheets and she waves me off.
He answers first ring. “Hey.”
“What’s up?”
“So, I wanted to talk to you about who you’ll be fighting.”
“Okay?”
“His name’s James Hayden. You should be able to find some info on him online. He used to train over at JL Ju-Jitsu.”
“Okay, thanks.” I’m about to hang up, but then I think fuck it. I’d rather deal with this shit now than let it eat away at me. “I wanted to talk to you about something else.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
I give it to him straight. “I’m not happy with the way you are around Maddy.”
“Maddy?”
“Yeah. Madison. My girlfriend. You can’t seem to take your eyes off her—and to be honest—it pisses me off and it makes her uncomfortable.”
Silence.
Dead. Fucking. Silence.
I thought I might have fucked up, got too personal. But after a long-ass moment, I heard him sigh. “You’re right,” he says. And I find myself both relieved and surprised. He adds, “I apologize.”
Silence again.
I wait.
And wait.
“Okay, good talk,” I mumble.
“It’s just that she reminds of someone I used to know. The resemblance is fucking uncanny.”
“You think you used to know her?”
“No. Not Madison. I don’t know her at all.”
His words confuse me. Before I can say anything, he says, “I’ll be out of town until your fight—got business to take care of—so you probably won’t hear from me until then.”
“Okay.”
“All right, Parker. I’ll see ya.”
I hang up and stare down at my phone.
Something feels off about the way he’d spoken to me. There were no threats in his words, no form of authority.
I call Jackson, who’s already expecting my call.
I give him the details of the meet, leaving out the parts about Maddy. I also leave out the tiny part of me that’s really starting to wonder about DeLuca, about the case, and whether it’s worth it.
But then Jackson thanks me, tells me how much he appreciates everything I’m doing. And just like that, I decide that Jackson and what he wants—what we want—it’s more important than what I’m feeling.
I decide to put him first.
Because he earned it.
And after everything he and his family have done for me, he sure as shit deserves it.
19
KY
FOR THE LAST four days, I’ve woken up with Madison sleeping peacefully next to me, and every morning I question the exact same thing. What the hell could be better than this? And the answer is, and probably always will be; nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Her eyes are closed, but the corners of her lips curl. “Are you watching me again?”
“No. How creepy would that be?”
Her eyes snap open. She rolls to her back and eyes me sideways. “Liar.”
I shrug in response, and then lean up on my elbow so I can see her face. She reaches up and fingers my dog tags that are hanging just above her breasts. I do my best to glance at them inconspicuously, but my hand has a mind of its own. A single finger runs a slow line from her chin, down her neck to her chest, where it rises and falls, matching her heavy breaths. I move my finger lower, and lower, waiting for her to tell me stop. But she doesn’t have to because her phone sounds, causing us to pull apart. I get up and start packing my gym gear while she checks her phone. When I return from the shower, she’s still looking down at it, but her eyes seem distant.
“Everything okay?”
She sits up and drops the phone to the side. “Yup.” She nods, and even though I suspect she’s lying, I don’t push her.
I sit on the bed and kiss her. Her phone beeps again but she ignores it. “You want to pick me up from Debbie’s shop when you’re done?”
“Sure. But hold out on getting your frames today, okay? I want to pick some with you.”
Her smile’s huge. “Okay!”
I stare at her a moment longer before I force myself to look away—to walk away. Each day spent together just makes it harder to be without her.
***
Sara: I miss you
Sara: Message me when you get this. I’m worried.
***
I try to be quiet as I walk into Debbie’s Flowers, but Madison hears me anyway. She smiles and continues to water some flowers on the back wall. Picking up a single orange rose on the way over to her, I press my chest against her back and set my hand on her stomach, then lift the rose to her nose.
“Orange?” She laughs. “You know that means lust and desire?”
“Good. That’s what I was going for.”
I kiss her neck, smiling against it when she tilts her head to give me better access.
Debbie clears her throat from behind us.
“Sorry,” I say, turning to her. “She’s kind of irresistible.”
There’s amusement in Debbie’s eyes when she asks, “What are your plans for the rest of the day, Kyler?”
I fake a sigh. “Not a lot, Debbie. Just hanging out with a girl I’m in lust with.”
Madison scoffs.
I continue, “Actually, I do have plans. But it’s a surprise.”
Madison smiles up at me. “Surprise? I like surprises.”
“Yeah? I’m hoping you like what I have to offer a lot more than your stupid mailbox.”
***
We walk back to our building and check my mail. I pray that Jackson’s come good on his word, and smile when my fingers skim the metal of a key.
“What’s that?” Madison asks.
“Jax being fucking awesome, is what it is,” I answer, taking her hand. I lead her down the stairs to the basement-parking garage. I look at the car logo on the key—Ford—and start pressing the keyless entry remote, listening for the sound.
“Oh my god,” she yelps, running toward the car. Only it’s not just any car—it’s a blue Mustang GT convertible—and the roof’s already down.
“Get in!” I shout.
She doesn’t hesitate.
I take my time, pull out my phone and send Jackson a message.
Ky: Holy shit! This is your car?
Jackson: I wish. It came from the impound lot at the station so be careful!
Ky: How the fuck did you manage that?
Jackson: I’m screwing the girl in charge.
Ky: Shut up! You didn’t tell me you were dating.
Jackson: I didn’t say we were dating. I said I was screwing her. There’s a difference, big brother.
Ky: That’s BADASS, Jax.
Jackson: I’m serious about not messing it up.
Ky: You got it. You sl
y motherfucker you.
Jackson: Enjoy, asshole.
“Where are we going?” she asks, bouncing in her seat as I get in the car.
“Quiet you!”
She glares at me.
I turn the key in the ignition—and then lean back against the headrest—relishing in the purr of the engine. “That’s the sound of over six hundred and fifty horse power, babe.”
Her face forms to a look of disgust. “Are you...” She reaches over to cover my crotch.
Laughing, I smack her hand away.
“You’re hard, aren’t you?” she jokes. “You should have sex with it.”
“I may as well have sex with something,” I retort.
Her jaw drops, her eyes huge. “You—I-I can’t believe you just said that!”
I laugh harder and kiss her quickly. She pulls away, feigning anger. “Another one,” I say.
She rolls her eyes but caves and kisses me again. Then she covers my face with her hand and pushes me away. “It’s not like you’ve ever made a move,” she mumbles.
I don’t respond, because she’s right.
And I won’t push her to do anything until she’s ready to give me all of her.
Anything less and it won’t do us justice.
“Okay, so please don’t get too excited,” I warn. “It’s really not that great. In fact, you’ll probably think it’s dumb. But just pretend like you like it, okay?”
“I’m with you, right? That’s enough.” She places her hand on my leg and squeezes once. “That will always be enough, Ky.”
***
There are no signs on the warehouse, which makes the surprise even better. We wait for a few people to exit the building before stepping inside.