He coughed out a laugh. “So am I, but don’t tell Tripp.”
I was shocked that he was Italian, but more so that he said not to tell Michael. “Why?”
“Long story,” he said. “You ready for the truth?”
“Please.”
He inhaled a deep breath, exhaled and began. “A well-known figure in this city approached Tripp a few days before the night you saw us. His son had been kidnapped and was bein’ held hostage. They demanded a ransom far beyond what the man could possibly pay, and he was assured if he didn’t pay by the deadline, they’d kill his son. I was at Tripp’s office the night he came in askin’ for help, and we agreed to get his son back.”
I waited for him to say he was joking, but it never came. I’m sure partially due to the lack of sleep I had been getting, and a little more because it was obvious he wasn’t kidding, I stared back at him in complete shock.
“We were runnin’ against the clock. That’s why he couldn’t take the time to explain. I guess I’ll tell you the rest of it, now that I started.”
His eyes fell to his lap and he raked his fingers through his closely-cropped hair. After a heavy sigh, he met my gaze.
“We got to the guy, and they had a bomb strapped to his neck. A bomb big enough to blow all of us to kingdom come. Now, there ain’t a whole bunch of fuckers that’d volunteer to rescue a kidnap victim. And, there’s a lot less that’d do it up against the crazy fuckers we was up against. But to find someone who’d take the risk and try and defuse the bomb? Yeah, that’s a tough one.”
I felt like I had swallowed a handful of sand. My throat was tight, my mouth was dry and my heart was racing. I remembered I had a glass of water, and took a drink. “What happened? The man’s son died, didn’t he?”
“Sure didn’t. Tripp made us all seek shelter, and he insisted he stay and help defuse the bomb. Took the kid home with him, got him cleaned up, gave him one of his suits and delivered him to his father.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped. I glanced down at my shaking hands. I had run through many scenarios of what might have been going on that night, and I never would have dreamed it was anything like what Cap had described.
“Now. The guns you got mad about? The machine guns, as you call ‘em? Those very guns are what saved all of us, that kid included, from bein’ killed on that night.”
It was almost too much to comprehend. I wondered who the boy was, and who the man was. A senator, judge or congressman, I supposed. I had so many questions. “Oh my God, this is so crazy,” I said excitedly. “I have a ton of questions.”
“If it’s about that night, the answer’s no. I’ve told you all I’m going to tell you about that night. Not one word of it was a lie, and I didn’t hold anything back. But, we’re done talkin’ about it. It’ll never be discussed again.”
“But...”
“No buts about it. I got one more thing to say, and I’m leavin’.”
He stood, turned around, and folded his arms in front of his massive chest. “Tripp’s parents died when he was a kid. Grew up without a family. But he didn’t give up. As an eighteen-year-old kid he went to war. Two countries, a million enemies, and a couple of gunshot wounds later, he returned. But it didn’t kill him. Ten fuckin’ years of hell. I’ve seen him in places no one in his right mind would go, and against enemies no man would ever want to fight. But he lived through it all. And then, along comes this little Italian gal.
“He loves ya, Terra. More than he probably loves himself. And you? You bein’ here? After all he’s lived through, you’re killin’ him. He’s dyin’ right now. I can see it. And seein’ it’s killin’ me.”
My eyes began to well with tears.
“Do you love him?” he asked.
“I...I do.”
“Go tell him,” he said.
And he walked away.
Loving Michael was easy. All I had to do was exist.
Being without him in my life, however, was impossible.
“Cap!” I shouted.
He was at the front door and just about to walk outside. He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Can you help me carry my stuff back inside?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Michael
Cap cleared his throat as he walked into my office. “Get out the scotch,” he said.
I reached for the top three inches of the mound of papers piled on my desk and lifted it from the stack. “What’s going on?”
For all intents and purposes I hadn’t done a damned thing since the night. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever reach a point that I cared enough to work again. My desk looked like a combat zone, and I had customers who were threatening to go elsewhere if I didn’t at least return their calls.
“Time for a drink.”
“It’s not dark yet.” I glanced out the window. It was just about dusk. “Not quite, anyway.”
He flopped down in the seat on the opposite side of the desk. He looked exhausted. “It’s dark somewhere. And I’m done with the AR-15s. Time to celebrate.”
“Done?” I looked up from the pile of papers. “Like done?”
“Yeah, motherfucker. Done. Like there’s five fuckin’ hundred assembled weapons in crates in the shop. We could arm a small country. Or maybe the northern half of Texas.”
“Holy shit.”
He nodded toward the corner of the desk. “Pour me a glass, would ya?”
A million dollars’ worth of inventory, finally completed and ready to ship. I was excited, but not in the manner I would have expected. I pulled open the drawer and peered down into it, looking for the bottle of celebratory scotch. “I will.”
A light knock on the door startled me. Hell, I hadn’t even heard the footsteps. Convinced I was losing my nerve, my mind and my sense of awareness, I looked up from the drawer.
Terra.
My heart stopped.
And then, it began to beat rapidly. She looked no differently than she always did.
Magnificent.
Her hair was draped down over her shoulders in the front, and her brown eyes were filled with hope.
Or maybe it was mine.
She was dressed in a little black dress, but I couldn’t decide if it was the one we purchased together at Saks. It seemed like so long since I had seen her wear it, making it impossible to decide.
I decided it was.
Around her neck, the diamond pendant hung by the necklace I had purchased her for our two-month anniversary.
“Can I come in?”
I jumped from my seat and wiped my hands on the thighs of my pants. “Absolutely. Come in, have a seat.”
Cap stood up. “I’ll come back later.”
“No,” Terra said. “Stay for a minute if you don’t mind.”
Cap glanced at me. “I don’t mind if...”
“Okay by me,” I said. “Sit.”
I walked around the corner of my desk and motioned to the seat beside Cap. “Have a seat.”
She looked incredibly...perfect. The dull ache that seemed to fill me for the last few weeks instantly vanished and was replaced with an irregular heartbeat.
She sat down. “Thank you.”
It was difficult not to stand and stare, and I felt like I was doing just that. I pried my admiring eyes from her and walked to my seat. “So, how’s it going?”
She smiled. It was slight, but a smile nonetheless. “I’ve been better.”
“Is there anything I can do to—”
“There is. I need to ask a few questions.”
“Okay,” I said. “Anything.”
“The night I came in here. You said it was complicated. I want you to uncomplicate it. Is that a word? Uncomplicate?”
“Simplify,” Ca
p said.
I glared at him and then shifted my eyes to her. “I think so.”
She sighed lightly and crossed her legs. “Well?”
“You want him to...” I tilted my head toward Cap.
“Yes,” she said with a nod. “I want him to stay.”
I hadn’t given any thought to what I would say if I was ever given the opportunity to talk to Terra about the incident that night, or about my business. I truly believed I would never have an opportunity, and therefore had nothing canned to respond. I wanted a glass of scotch to calm my nerves and my heart, but decided against it.
Just tell her the truth, Tripp.
“Before I get started, I want to say this—I wish I would have been forthright from the start. For what it’s worth, I didn’t and I still don’t feel like I lied to you, but I didn’t offer you all of the facts, either. In the future, if there is a future, ask me anything you’re uncertain of, and I’ll never lie to you.”
“Okay,” she said.
“I buy and sell firearms. They’re typically, but not always, the types of firearms the military uses, but in civilian form. Assault weapons. I sell them to who I believe needs them, and no one else. Are they always legal law-abiding buyers? Probably not. But they’re never the types of people who are going to go shoot up a school, movie theater, or anything like that. Most, if not all, are shipped out of the country and used elsewhere. That is what I invest in.”
“Anything else?”
“Anything else what?”
“Is there anything else you invest in? Besides guns?”
“There is not.”
“Okay. I’m a guy. I call you and I say I want to buy a thousand AK-47s. That’s a gun, right? An AK-47?”
I wondered if she had done research, or if she hated the weapons so much that she knew their designations. “Yes,” I said. “That’s a common weapon of choice.”
“Okay. I want a thousand of them. What’s the first thing you ask me?”
“Who are you?”
“I’m a Vietnamese gangbanger.”
“Sorry, I can’t help you.”
“I’m a Mexican drug lord.”
“Sorry, I can’t help you.”
“I’m a Mexican citizen.”
“Who’s your opposition?”
“My opposition? Let’s see. The Guatemalan police are corrupt and they’re bringing cocaine in through my state. It’s a disaster. We need to do something about it. We’re going to kill them. Or at least try.”
“So, you’re actually fighting the Guatemalan police?”
“Si, señor.”
I grinned a shitty little grin. “They’re $2,500 each. Where do you want them delivered?”
“$2,500? I can get them down the street for $900.”
“Get ’em down the street.”
“Okay,” she said. “Now I’m me again, and I’m not the Mexican guy. Why? Why is it okay for them to fight the police?”
“Because they’re willing.”
“So you’ll sell them to anyone who’s willing? Willing to fight?”
“No. I won’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
“And I don’t expect you to. I don’t ever do anything that I believe is wrong or that may put an American life in jeopardy. That’s my rule. Might be my only rule, I’d have to think about it.”
“But you decide who’s worthy of the guns and who isn’t?”
“That is correct.”
“And some of the people you sell to might be bad people?”
“In someone’s eyes, maybe. Hell, maybe in my eyes. But the weapons will be used for something that’ll make the world a better place.”
“In your mind.”
“That is correct.”
“So, in a sense, you sit in your little chair and play God. The gun god?”
“I suppose so.”
“You don’t mind me calling you that? The gun god?”
“No,” I said with a laugh. “Actually, I kind of like it.”
“What were you doing that night? Where were you going?”
“What night?”
“Really? What night? The night I came in here and caught you and your little group of vigilantes.”
I glanced at Cap.
“Don’t look at him. Answer me.”
Out of my peripheral, I saw Cap nod once.
“I was going to attempt to rescue a man who was being held hostage.”
She laughed a sarcastic laugh. “So you were on a hostage rescue mission?”
“That is correct.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
I shrugged. “Probably not.”
“Is it the truth?”
“It is.”
“You swear?”
“I don’t swear. I told you when you came in here that I wouldn’t lie to you. Ask the right questions, and you’ll always get the right answers. I told you the truth. I was going to attempt to rescue a man who was kidnapped and being held hostage.”
“Did you succeed?”
“Yes, I did. We did.”
She turned to face Cap and chuckled. “Were you part of this hostage rescue mission?”
Apparently, she still thought I was joking. Cap sat up in his seat and pointed to the scotch. “Pour us a glass.”
I poured two glasses half-full.
Terra cleared her throat. “Ahem.”
I poured another.
I handed each of them their glasses. As I sipped mine, Cap turned toward Terra.
“I was,” he said with a nod.
“And the other two guys that were in here. Were they part of it?”
Cap shrugged. “Better ask them.”
She turned to face me.
I took a sip of the whiskey. “You’ll need to ask them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, last question.”
I took another sip. “I’m listening.”
“Did you kill anyone that night?”
It surprised me she asked. After my first fuckup with her, I wasn’t interested in creating another. If we were ever going to be together again, I was going to be sure she understood what—and who—she was going to be involved with.
“Yes. Two men.”
“Dead?”
“That is correct.”
“You killed them?”
“I gave an order to kill them, yes.”
“Gave an order?”
“That is correct.”
“You’re not in the military any longer, right?”
“I am not.”
“So who do you give orders to?”
“My employees are former military. We treat some of our business transactions like military missions, and they follow my command.”
“So you’re like a mafia boss? The Godfather?”
I never looked at it that way. I considered it, took a sip of scotch, and nodded. “I guess so.”
She lifted her glass, downed the scotch in one drink and stood from her seat.
My heart sank.
She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and coughed. “I’ve got two statements, and one question.”
I prepared for her to unleash her wrath.
“Michael, I love you.”
My throat went dry. I somehow managed to swallow, regardless. I took a sip of my whiskey and waited for the but.
“And.” Her lip curled. Just a little. “I’m not wearing panties.”
I choked on my scotch until I went into a coughing fit. When I finally caught my breath, she continued.
“Now, my question. I’ve forgiven you. Will you forgive me?”
I coughed
the last of the scotch out of my lungs. “Yes,” I said without hesitation. “I will.”
Cap slapped his hand against the edge of my desk. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Pour one more round, motherfucker. Then I’ve got to get.”
“Stay for a bit,” Terra said with a smile.
“After that panty remark?” He cocked an eyebrow. “I think you two need to be alone.”
For once in my life, I agreed with Cap wholeheartedly.
* * *
The glare from the headlights of Cap’s truck disappeared from view. I turned away from the office window and walked toward her. With each careful step, I tried to hide my excitement—both on my face and in my pants.
“No panties, huh?”
Seeming nervous, she twisted in her seat. “Did I say that?”
I stepped around the corner of the desk, pushed the heel of my palm against my stiff cock, and nodded. “I love you, and I’m not wearing any panties. That’s what you said.”
She met my gaze and stood up. “I don’t...uhhm...I don’t remember saying that.”
I moved closer. With my lips mere inches from hers and our eyes locked, I reached under her dress.
I raised my hand between her thighs and gently cupped her pussy in my palm. She was soaked, and it appeared she had been for some time.
She inhaled a choppy breath.
I curled my finger, pushing the tip between her soaking-wet folds.
“Oh fuck,” she gasped.
I gripped the back of her neck and pulled her firmly against me. As our lips met I pushed the entire length of my finger inside of her.
Passionately, we kissed while I worked my finger in and out of her wet and willing pussy.
I released her neck and swept the top of my desk clean with one motion of my hand. As the month’s debris came crashing down to the floor, I lowered her onto the uncluttered surface.
I pushed another finger deep inside.
Her eyes widened and she drew a sharp breath. “I missed you,” she said through clenched teeth.
My cock was about to burst through the fabric of my pants.
“Give it to me,” she begged.
Simply having Terra back in my life was enough to make me as rigid as a stone. Having her in my office half-naked and begging for my cock put me over the edge. My desire for her was well beyond what I was able to hide—or even attempt to conceal.
The Gun Runner (Mafia Made) Page 18