Do Me Right

by Lisa G Riley

  “What the fuck? Isn’t that Sloan over there?” Barlow Sims watched Sloan and Kendra strolling away from where he and his lover were crouched behind a car. “You idiot!” he exclaimed in a whisper when a car beeped in response to the remote control that Sloan had pressed on his key ring. Barlow heard the doors on the car unlock. Swearing, he resisted kicking something. The car was two fucking rows over.

  “You picked the wrong car!” he accused furiously.

  “I’m sorry, Barlow. I could have sworn this was his car. It looks exactly like his.”

  “Oh, never mind that now! Just shoot his ass,” Barlow demanded.

  “But, but—”

  “Damn it!” Barlow said before he wrapped his hand around his lover’s, pointed the gun in the general vicinity of Sloan’s head, and shot.

  Sloan felt a burning pinch and raised his hand to his ear. Kendra asked, “Did you hear that? Some poor guy’s car is backfiring.”

  Feeling wetness, Sloan pulled his hand away and looked at his fingers. He stared in surprise at the blood he saw, wondering how on earth it had gotten there.

  “Okay, Sloan,” Kendra began peevishly, “I know you’re angry with me, but I never thought you’d be so childish as to—”

  Still frowning and more than a little surprised, Sloan looked at Kendra. “Wh-what did you say?”

  Kendra said, “You don’t have to ignore—”

  “No, I mean about the car back—” Surprise turned to shock as he realized what had happened. “I think I’ve been shot, Ken.”

  “You didn’t use a silencer?” The sound of the bullet leaving the gun had been thunderous, making Barlow jump in shock. Now he stood with hotly accusing eyes. “I told your stupid ass to get a silencer!”

  “I-I forgot! Stop yelling at me!”

  “And then you had the nerve to miss the shot. Oh, fuck me!” Barlow said, knowing that while that first shot might attract attention, another one definitely would. “Give me the damn gun! I’ll do it myself.” He snatched the gun.

  His partner objected, sounding highly insulted. “But you covered my hand! So I don’t think you should blame me for missing.”

  Barlow ignored the comment and prepared to take another shot. He took a shooter’s stance, sighted his target, and—

  “Plus, you know you have chunky fingers, and that made it extra difficult for both of our fingers to fit. Really, Barlow, if you think about it, it is your fault.”

  His shot interrupted, Barlow turned stunned eyes to the pouting face. “Will you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to kill someone here!”

  “But—”

  Barlow made a slashing movement with his gun hand. “Shut. Up.” Completely rushed now, he turned back and let off two shots.

  “What! Shot?” Kendra followed the direction of Sloan’s gaze to his hands and saw the blood. “Oh my God! What happened!” Her panicked gaze went to his pale face, and she screamed. “Your head is bleeding!”

  Sloan’s hand went back to his ear. The blood was still gushing. “No, it’s not my head. It’s my ear; the bullet nicked it—”

  He was cut off by two more shots, heard in quick succession. “Run, Ken! Someone’s shooting at us.” Grabbing her arm, he took off running, dragging her behind him.

  Kendra tried to keep up, flinching when another bullet sounded.

  “We’re not going to make it to the car. Get down,” he commanded and pulled her down between two cars. Panting, they sat and looked at each other in shock. “What the fuck is going on?” Sloan wondered aloud. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, hoping for service that he knew wouldn’t be available.

  “I don’t have service either,” Kendra told him as she showed him her phone. Trying not to panic, she focused on Sloan. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small first-aid kit.

  “What? You walk around expecting to fall down and skin your knee or something?”

  Kendra stopped searching for the kit’s scissors long enough to look at him. “Oh, baby, you sound weak,” she said with soft concern. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

  “It barely got me, but I think it got the fleshy part. I read somewhere that ears bleed a lot, even from small cuts.”

  Kendra looked at the blood seeping through his fingers and prayed he was right. Crouching so that she came up on his side, she pulled his hand away to study the wound. “This may burn a little,” she said through clenched teeth before she ruthlessly doused the wound with an alcohol pad.

  “Ow! Hey!” Sloan complained and flinched when she roughly started dabbing the wound with a cotton ball. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “You pretended that you didn’t know about the plan Connor told me about,” she said in a controlled voice rife with fury as she carefully cut the tape for the small squares of gauze. “You lied to me. You did deliberately put yourself in danger. Be still!”

  Sloan hunched his shoulder in defense. “I would appreciate it if you were a little damned more gentle in your fucking tender ministrations!”

  “Shut up, Sloan,” Kendra muttered as she taped several squares of gauze to his ear and anchored it to his face. “It was a stupid plan!”

  Sloan grabbed her hand as she sat down again and started putting things back into her purse. He squeezed her fingers until she looked up at him. “I didn’t have a plan. I don’t know who that is shooting at us. Jesus, Mrs. Patterson!”

  “Oh right! She’s on the bench. Maybe she’ll call the police.”

  “If she does, I hope she has sense enough to go back into the building beforehand.”

  “You might as well come out now, Sloan! We’re not going to let you out of here. Tell you what. You come out, and we’ll let that pretty little piece with you go.”

  Kendra looked at Sloan with wide eyes. “Who is that?” she whispered.

  Sloan hushed her. “Who are you? I’ve heard your voice before. How do I know you’re telling the truth? How do I know you won’t just kill her as soon as you’ve killed me?”

  “Well…you don’t. I will tell you this much, though. We couldn’t care less about the woman. We just want you. You have until I count to three to come out. Otherwise we kill her too.

  “One.”

  “Don’t you even think about moving from this spot,” Kendra told Sloan as she gripped his arm.

  “Two.”

  Sloan tried to brush her hand away. “I’m—”

  “Barlow! Is that you?”

  Kendra frowned. “Was that Mrs. Patterson?”

  “Yes, and she’s talking to her nephew, the man who’s trying to kill me. I knew I recognized that voice,” he said grimly. “Stay here.”

  “No, don’t go!”

  Sloan leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. “Stay. Here,” he repeated and stood. He saw Mrs. Patterson walking toward her nephew’s voice. He looked in that direction and saw Barlow.

  “Are you going to shoot your aunt too, Barlow?” he called, taking the other man’s attention off the old woman. Barlow looked dumbfounded. “How many bullets have you got left?” Sloan taunted as he walked around the car. “Enough for all of us?”

  “Barlow, what are you doing?” Mrs. Patterson was obviously confused as she continued to make her way toward her nephew with Pookie in her arms. For once the dog was mercifully quiet.

  Barlow was apparently still in shock at seeing his aunt. “Auntie? What are you doing here?”

  “That was my question for you, Barlow.” She stood in front of her nephew. “Barlow! Why were you trying to shoot Sloan? What could he have possibly done to make you do such a thing?”

  Sloan, who was right behind Mrs. Patterson, turned back around when he heard high heels clicking behind him. He was not surprised to see Kendra running to catch up but decided to deal with her later, and turned to respond to Mrs. Patterson’s question. “I can answer that, Mrs. Patterson. He’s been stealing from the trust, and he figured out that I found out.” Barlow appeared to be experiencing some sort of shock-induced c
alm. Sloan never paused in his effort to get to his goal. He simply took the gun from Barlow and kept walking.

  “And he’s had help,” he continued as he stopped dead center in front of his target, “from my trusted friend and colleague here.” He smiled in grim satisfaction as his fist shot out, crunching nose cartilage, spewing blood, and knocking Patrick Thomas flat on his California beach-bum ass.

  *

  “I’m so sorry for this, Sloan.”

  Sloan stood next to Mrs. Patterson as they watched the police load Barlow into a squad car. Patrick would be transported after they finished treating his broken nose in the back of the ambulance. As a fresh batch of tears began to roll down Mrs. Patterson’s face, Sloan pulled her in for a hug. “It’s not your fault, Mrs. Patterson.”

  “But I feel responsible,” she said, stepping away. “Terrence always told me that I gave Barlow too much. He said I spoiled the boy, and I knew he was right, but I kept doing it. I just love him so much.” Wiping more tears from her eyes, she screeched softly in frustration. “How on earth did he get involved in all of this?”

  “My best guess would be that he and Patrick met each other at the firm during one of the few times Barlow visited with you. They were attracted to one another and started a relationship.” Sloan still couldn’t believe it. The way Patrick had chased after women…

  “And the two of them plotted to steal from the trust?” Mrs. Patterson asked.

  “Afraid so.”

  “It is my fault. Barlow felt he was entitled to the money. He’s always thought it unfair that he would get nothing when I died. Truthfully I always thought it unfair too, and I guess Barlow probably could tell that.” Sobbing, she buried her face in Pookie’s fur. “What’s going to happen to him?”

  Sloan grimaced, unwilling to add to her worries. “You should worry about that later, Mrs. Patterson. For now, why don’t you go be with him at the police station? Do you need a lift?”

  “No, no, I’m fine,” she said between sniffles. “I guess I will go to the station. What are you going to do?”

  “I’m headed there myself.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Kendra spoke up from behind him.

  Sloan put Mrs. Patterson into the care of an officer and then turned back to Kendra. She looked frail and exhausted. “You’ve already given your statement to the police. They’ll call you if they need you. You should go home.”

  Startled, Kendra grabbed his arm. “But so did you, and I want to go with—”

  “I don’t want you to. Go home, Kendra. I’ll be fine.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Kendra awoke the next morning achy and tired and with swollen, dry eyes. She’d cried herself to sleep after she’d left Sloan. She’d been devastated when he’d refused to let her stay. “He didn’t even want me around anymore,” she whispered. “I’ve blown it.”

  The mere thought filled her eyes again with tears. Her stubbornness and hard-heartedness had done irreversible damage, and he’d never forgive her.

  She knew it was horrible and a bit movie-of-the-weekish, but it had taken last night’s episode to bring her to her senses regarding Sloan’s absence on their wedding day. As they had sat hiding from the madman who’d wanted to kill Sloan, all she’d been able to think about was how much she didn’t want to lose him. The reality of the situation had forced her to examine herself, and she’d finally been able to see through all of her hurt and anger long enough to see Sloan.

  “But it seems he doesn’t want me anymore,” she whispered forlornly as she recalled how cold he’d been to her from the moment they’d seen each other the day before. She knew she’d hurt him with her intractability, and now she had to face the fact that maybe he was just tired of putting up with her.

  But love doesn’t just die, does it? Of course not. “So what am I doing?” Kendra sat straight up in bed. “Why am I still sitting here? Because you’re a freaking idiot,” she muttered to herself as she got out of bed and hurried to the shower.

  *

  Two hours later she patted her curls, ran her hand down her front to smooth nonexistent wrinkles in her belted trench coat, and took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell to her old apartment.

  “Umm, hi,” she said when he answered. “May I come in?”

  Sloan studied her coldly. He stepped back to let her enter. “I’m in no mood for bullshit today, Kendra. I had a long night, and I’m tired.”

  “I know.” Kendra nervously walked past him and turned as he was shutting the door. He wore just tousled hair, a pair of unbuttoned jeans, and a discouraging scowl. She licked her lips. “I’m here because I, uhhh… I need to…” She stopped and took a deep breath, wishing he would say something—anything.

  Eyes narrow and suspicious, Sloan didn’t move.

  God, he just looks so unforgiving! Kendra wiped nervous hands down the sides of her coat. “I’m sorry for being so intolerant, Sloan, and for not trusting you. I was just so scared, and I didn’t…I didn’t…” His hard stare unnerved her. He’d never directed that look to her before. She looked away from him, hoping to gather her thoughts.

  Kendra took a deep breath and looked at him. “I’m sorry for everything, Sloan. It doesn’t matter why you were late on our wedding day, because I know you love me and you would have been on time if you’d been able to.”

  Sloan’s brow lifted. “Really? What brought on this sudden change of heart?”

  “I’m sorry,” Kendra said again, and her voice broke. Turning away from him, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Her heart was breaking. It was too late. She’d blown it with him. “I’m so sorry, Sloan. I wish I hadn’t been so stupid,” she said and suddenly turned to face him again. “But I was, and you’ll never know how much I regret that. I wish you would take me back, but I don’t blame you if you won’t. I shouldn’t have come.” Blinded by tears, she tried to walk around him to get to the door.

  Sloan pulled her into his arms. “It’s all right, Kennie-girl,” he said into her curls. “It’s all right.”

  “No, it isn’t,” she wailed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I was so awful to you. I should have known that you had a good reason for being late—I was just too scared to let you tell me. I love you, Sloan. I do!”

  “I know you do, Ken. Don’t cry,” he begged as he boosted her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist. “I hate to see you cry.”

  “I can’t help it. I’m such a bitch, but I promise to change. I promise to open up more and share my emotions and stop comparing you to my father.”

  Sloan lifted her chin. “You’re not a bitch—” he began and laughed at the disgruntled, skeptical look she gave him. “You’re not,” he insisted, “but I forgive you for being so stubborn and blind that you almost ruined our lives. Okay?”

  “Oh God, how can you? I was just horrible.” She was relieved—and amazed—that he’d forgiven her so easily.

  “None of that’s important right now. All I need to know is that you’re committed to making a change and that you love me,” he said and bent his head to sip at her tears.

  “I am! I do! I really, really do love you,” she said and sobbed more.

  As she continued to cry, Sloan backed her against the wall. He slid his hands up and under the coat and found nothing to glide over but skin. “God, Kennie-girl, you’re just full of surprises this morning. Thank God,” he commented as he unzipped his pants. He paused. “Can you take me, baby?”

  Kendra felt the head of his cock pressing against her cleft, and just the memory of how full his erection made her feel when he was inside her made her instantly wet. Still sobbing, she nodded. When he pushed deep inside her, her sobs quickly turned to little high-pitched squeals of delight.

  Sloan closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, sweetheart,” he said. “And I won’t ever leave you. Remember that. Trust in that.”

  Kendra savored the feel of him, and she contracted strongly and wetly around him. “I love yo
u too, and I know you won’t leave me. I do trust you.”

  He pushed all the way in to the hilt and stopped moving. “Don’t move,” he told her. “Just let me feel you again. God, I missed this.”

  “Me too,” she puffed out. Unable to help herself, she let her internal muscles move around him several times, squeezing him hard.

  He got a more secure hold and looked at her through eyes at half-mast. “You’re supposed to hold still.”

  “I can’t help it,” she purred. “It feels so good, Sloan.”

  Sloan grunted and slowly, torturously pulled out. She loved the feel of her slick heat grasping at his dick as if it didn’t want to let him go. He paused with only the tip inserted.

  She went mad, desperately grinding her hips to force him all the way back in, but he held her steady. She looked at him and said softly and clearly, “Please, Sloan. Give me your entire dick. Give me every single inch of it. I want you to stick your thick, long cock so far up in my pussy that not one inch is left over. I want it all, Sloan. I want it hard, I want it fast, and I want it now. Please.” She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Give it to me.”

  It was Sloan who went mad now, thrusting into her so fast and so hard that she reared back and up against the wall. Her legs fell bonelessly to his sides, and her hands clenched and unclenched on his shoulders. She had come undone.

  “Is it too rough?” he asked her as he continued to plunge furiously inside her.

  Biting her lip, Kendra frantically shook her head no. She raised her arms to tighten them around his neck as she rode out the maelstrom, feeling as if her entire body were coming apart. “Yes, Sloan, oh yes. Baby, please don’t stop,” she screamed. Then she felt herself shattering into millions of fragments.

  Sloan pushed into her, the force of his thrusts pinning her hard to the wall as he joined her.

  *

  “I can’t believe it!” Kendra said in dismay later as they lay in their bed. He’d just finished telling her about the fiasco on their wedding day. “Were you hurt really badly?” A worried frown on her face, she put her hand to the back of his head to check for herself.