by Marie Wathen
“Only if you’ll agree to listen to one Guns’ song,” she scrunches up her nose, not liking my dare. “Then, I promise, you will be convinced that Slash is the king of strings.”
She sighs heavily, resigning, “Fine, but…not Sweet Child of Mine.” I just shake my head, unable to fathom anyone not digging the hell out of that song.
“That is the decade’s best song, doll.” She shakes her head again while crossing her arms definitely. “Fine,” I agree reluctantly and spin around, facing the cd changer, searching out the song that will prove my point perfectly.
All too happy about winning this little challenge against me, she repeats, “Fine.”
“Welcome to the Jungle?” I suggest, scrolling through my playlist.
“Eck,” she makes a disgusted sound, and I glare over my shoulder to see her wrapping both hands around her throat. Insanity: pure and simple.
So, I keep searching. “Paradise City?” She hums disagreeably.
Patience is my favorite ballad, but without asking her preference again, I press play and instantly the haunting piano keys of November Rain begins filling the room. The words are so relevant to our turbulent relationship that it feels like the air becomes a torque, powerful enough to change everything between us. Her eyes flick up, latching with mine, and she chews anxiously on her thumbnail. My fingers ache to touch her, playing every delicious curve and line of her exquisite body to this enthralling tempo, like she is my music. It is difficult as hell, but I stay on my side of the room watching the tip of her tongue sliding along the edge of her fingernail. All I can imagine is how it would feel moving along the seam of my cock. Then in turn, I wonder, how loudly will she scream my name when my tongue moves between her provocative slit?
Silently, we stare at each other just absorbing the meaning behind the profoundness of this moment. I’m not even listening for the guitar riffs any longer. She is the one interest that I have, and the only thought circling through my mind is that I’ll keep the promise of this song. We will find a way. No matter what daunting tasks I have to suffer while keeping my distance from her, or the hell that we’ll endure, I will be hers and she is going to love me too.
When the last cord drifts away, I hold her look for another moment and then clear my throat. With a small smile, I point to the stereo and confess, “Natalie hates them, too.”
She exhales, like she hasn’t been breathing through the song, smiles and then asks, “Really? So, it’s not just me who can live a lifetime without hearing them ever again?”
“Apparently, you ladies don’t appreciate the kismet that is Slash and Axel.”
“Huh, that’s interesting.” She smiles playfully. “You helped me find the one thing that she and I have in common. Loathing your favorite band could make us soul sisters. Thanks, Blues.” She winks, and I laugh at full volume.
With the tension broken, we talk for another hour. She shares with me that Natalie has asked her to babysit Dean and Simone while she and Jude go to the Super bowl in a couple of weeks. I offer to help keep the kids, but she shoots me down while maintaining that she will not be keeping them for a weekend let alone an hour. Anything involving children doesn’t seem to be something she is willing to concede. Wonder if I can get her to change that bullish option. Every day, I learn more interesting facts about her, but the one secret that I want more than all that she has offered is how she truly feels about me. Can a relationship with her work? Is she willing to give us a chance when we are free to put loving ahead of everything else? I am a man lead by obtaining every goal that I deem worthy of gaining. Angel is more than an object or a target that I hope to secure. She could be the one who finally gives me a true purpose in this world.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Decks was in a mad rush to get Angel away last night, and refused to speak while she was here,” I tell Max, during our daily phone call. “I expect his call this morning.”
“He must agree to your offer. With him joining you on taking down Nelson, you secure the only person who has ever had a direct link to Dr. A before now. I expect you to reel him in, Mr. Sloane. We can’t afford to lose him, to lose the contact. Get over whatever issues lie between you where Sam is concerned. More important things are at stake than which man she will choose.” Sneering, I bite back the foul language pressing against my closed mouth. “Everything on my end is in order. Your family is in a safe place, except for Attacus.”
“Most likely, he is out of the country again. I’ll contact him tonight and let him know where to find the girls and Urban. He’ll definitely want to secure the place personally.”
“Fine, I’ll notify my guy to expect him soon.” Sighing, a note of exasperation fills his voice as he continues down the list of items on his checklist, “Juan Arturo is expected here next Friday to meet with your uncle. My associates have everything in place and they are prepared to intercede should he initiate an attack on the X’kapz.”
With a growl, I insist, “They better have. If anyone that I care about dies, you won’t just lose me as a leader in your little group; your loss will be much more personal.”
“Calm yourself before Mr. Kennedy calls you so that you are capable of playing your role exactly as required,” he reiterates before disconnecting, like I haven’t heard that from him a hundred times already.
Decks doesn’t call like he promised, and I find out from Wise that he took Angel to the Bahamas for a few days. Apparently, he’s keeping her close to his side, thinking that he can offer enough protection. Even though he will have armed guards watching from the shadows, her being anywhere around him, or the X, is the worst damn idea anyone has ever had. He’s just too stupid to realize it.
The days leading up to Juan’s arrival have been long, and I’m all strung out with anxiety. Finally, the big day arrives, and I make a trip to the office downtown, hoping to overhear something that will tip me off to what the two old bastards have planned. Unfortunately, the meeting clearly isn’t happening here, because I can’t find either one of them, and Nelson’s assistant tells me that he won’t return until Monday.
Luckily, I do make one contact today that should prove beneficial to my arrangement with Max. Murph’s recent attitude adjustment toward the X had me considering him as another partner in bringing down Nelson. For years, his loyalty toward the cartel has gone without blemish. However, since the day that he kept Angel’s secret from Decks, I’ve been watching him for more signs of defection. There are none, but something in my gut tells me to trust him. My number one rule in this job is never giving up my partner’s ID. Today, for the first time since this case started, I broke my number two rule: exposing myself. After revealing my cover and relaying portions of my new joint venture, without revealing Max’s specific classification, Murph offers to join our side, agreeing to keep my secrets. Nothing would make me happier than to see some of the good people in this organization make a clean break before the shit hits the fan and they all go down because of their connections. Max assures me that because of Murph’s cooperation, he will insist on a plea deal from the DA that will keep him from doing hard time.
Twenty minutes before ten o’clock, I’m channel surfing when I receive a text message from Natalie telling me that Angel showed up at Holidays without Decks. On top of that she insists that Angel is wasted. I’ve seen her drink numerous times and the woman really does like her whiskey, usually by the pint, but she always seems to handle it well. Is that the truth or is she doing drugs again? A surge of fear about her going anywhere alone, especially if she is intoxicated, and the fact that the leader of Mexico’s deadliest cartels is in town, rushes me out of my house, straight to the club.
The heavy Friday night traffic in the heart of Atlanta slows my arrival time, but soon I am pulling into a parking space behind the club. Exiting the car, I scan the area and note that everything appears normal. Really though, I’m not sure what to expect. I would assume Juan would have armed bodyguards flanking him. Scanning the parking lot, I don’t se
e the mandatory sleek luxury vehicle that all drug lords believe they must drive.
“Now, I just need to find Angel and then somehow convince the stubborn woman to leave with me,” I challenge myself, pulling open the backdoor of the club.
The gods are looking down on me tonight. My sweet girl is stepping out of the ladies room just as I enter the hallway leading toward the bar. I rope my arms around her waist, catching her off guard, and then pull her tightly against my chest. Wildly, she twists around and then when she sees who it is that captured her, she relaxes and I smile because of it while caressing the side of her face.
“Oh, you startled me.” She blows out a heavy breath, fluttering her hair away from her face.
In the dark space, I am limited on how much I can see, but what lighting there is glimmers off her partially exposed chest. My eyes zone in on the deep crevice between her large breast, and I cup my free hand around her throat gently before slowly dragging it down her chest, dipping my index finger under the low scoop neck of her dress and into the lacy bra. The hand going around her stomach moves to the top of her panty line and she shivers at the sensation of it being so close to her pussy. She tilts her head back, softly laying it against my shoulder, giving in fully to the sensual feelings of my slow movements. I drop my face into her thick mane while my eyes fixate on the open end of the hallway. Max’s orders to stay away from her pops into my head, but fizzles out instantly. Thoughts of lifting the hem of her skirt, sliding her panties to the side and thrusting my dick inside her, here against this wall where we will definitely get caught by anyone needing to take a piss, replaces all other ideas my head.
Panting breathlessly from seriously considering fucking her like that just to see if we can get away with it, I moan against her neck while pushing my dick harder against her perfect ass. “Doll, come home with me,” I beg with a groan. “I have a place close by and my car is parked right out back.”
Pressing her against the wall, I wedge my hard-on between the two perfect globes of her ass and slide it up and down, drawing out a sultry moan that breezes over her glossy lips. Moving my hand from her chest, I edge my way around the side of her breast, stroking the pads of my fingers over her nipples. They perk up at the attention I offer, and my dick jumps with need. I hiss from the amazing feeling coursing through every cell in my body. The heat radiating off of her is like a snake charmers coaxing tune. My cock thrums with the building desire to slide between her soaking wet lips.
Movement toward the front of the bar catches my attention and my eyes cut through the crowd, focusing on the front table where I see Wise and Natalie. They are talking with someone whose face is obscured by a tangled group of people swaying around on the dance floor separating us. Another moment later, the person moves away and then Natalie throws her arms around Wise’s neck and presses her lips against his roughly.
Angel lifts one hand to cover my fingers playing with her nipples and the other goes down over the one resting above her slit, where she encourages mine to move against her body. My attention goes back to taking her somewhere quiet. “What do you say, love? We can leave your things here with your friends and return later for them.”
Instantly, she freezes and pulls away from me while replying, “No.”
“Wait,” I insist, grabbing her again. Before I get the chance to further persuade her to leave with me, a loud shot rings throughout the bar, followed by frenzied screams. People scatter through the front of the bar like wild animals searching for safety. “What the fuck?”
My instincts to protect Angel kick in and I pull her backward toward the exit. “No, I need to go in there,” she demands, fighting against my grasp.
Torment radiates through my chest just thinking about her mixing with that nightmarish scene. “Hell no, you are not going in there, Angel.” Kicking the backdoor open, I rush toward my car, carrying her and then placing her down into it gently. Within seconds we are racing down the street away from whatever hell just unleashed on Holidays.
Nervous words tumble out of her mouth, “What was that, Blues?” Twisting in the seat, she stares at me with terror-filled eyes, her face ashen. The question stills in the air and she leans closely, begging for the answer.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” I promise, wanting to reach out and take her into my arms to assure her that she is safe with me. Until we are far away from this life, I can’t even guarantee that I will survive it. Schooling her emotions, she glances out the front window, nodding her head and wrapping her right hand over the cast on her left.
My first thought is to call Wise, but then I reason that he is probably dragging his wife to safety like I am doing with my girl. The next option of course would be Max, because it is quite possible that Wise was the victim in the hell that just went down back there. If so, Max is a dead man, and he would be smart not to answer my call. Panic stabs my heart, thinking about my best friend dying. Gripping the steering wheel so tightly that I can feel the leather crack, I shove my foot down on the pedal and speed past a stretch of cars moving along with the speed limit. Then I cuss under my breath when headlights aim directly at us in the oncoming lane. I veer back in line behind a taxi and then take a sharp right. Pulling out my cell, I stare at it for one second before shifting my eyes ahead again. The only choice I am left with is the one that I make. Locating the name on my cell, my thumb presses on the send button. I know that Decks wasn’t at the club, but if he’s had any contact with Nelson today, he might know what Juan’s plans were for coming here and the name of the undercover cop. Unfortunately, Decks doesn’t answer and within two minutes from the time that we heard the shot, I’m pulling into the basement garage of my downtown loft apartment.
Upstairs, in my penthouse, I offer her a drink and then escort her over to the sofa. Two seconds later, I hear ice cubes clinking followed by the sound of her glass sliding across the coffee table top. After removing my jacket, I turn around, and her eyes pull away from the empty tumbler, shifting toward me with a numb gaze. Before offering to refill the glass, I tell her, “I’m going to try to call Decks again to find out what he knows about the gunfire. He didn’t answer the first time.” I drop my suit coat onto the arm of the sofa while pushing a hand through my hair and gripping my cell with the other.
“Decks is out of town again.”
After taking a deep breath, I turn around puzzled by her statement and ask, “Where did he go?” I hope that she’ll finally trust me to give up the information that she knows about his trips.
Biting her lip, she pauses. “I’m not certain,” she lies, holding my gaze intently, like she doesn’t want me seeing a telltale sign of her deception. Then she really surprises me when she admits, “I think this trip was to the Gulf coast.”
Although I already know about some of his recent travels, I am blown away that she trusts me, so I press, “You said he’s out of town again. Where has he gone, and when did he start going on these trips?”
“Well, you know about the east coast trip back before Christmas, right?” I nod. “After my accident…” she hesitates glancing down at her broken arm, and I start to get frustrated because I think that she’s editing, but then when I see twinge of ache flash across her face as she remembers her motorcycle crash, my heart hammers against my ribcage. “He refused to let me go out alone and didn’t want me staying by myself at the house while he traveled so I accompanied him to Nassau last week.”
Immediately after telling me this, she clamps her lips, waiting for my response. As much as I want her to trust me with his secrets, I can’t tip her off about what I’m involved with. Standing up, I pace in front of the French doors that leads out to the balcony, overlooking the street below, trying to decide what I can safely tell her.
“Can you call Wise or Murph? They were at the club, and I really want to know if everyone is okay,” she begs, her voice quivering when she mentions the guys’ names. Her sadness and unshed tears on her lovely face are like a jackhammer to my soul, caus
ing me to stagger back a step. Silently staring at each other, we reach the same conclusion. One of our friends died tonight. The sorrow overwhelms her body, making her knees buckle. I’m suddenly beside her, my hand going to her shoulder and directing her to sit back down.
Holding her grey stare, I lift a steady hand and run the tips of my fingers along the side of her forehead, tucking hair behind her ear. She’s trembling uncontrollably, and my touch isn’t easing her heartache. I whisper, “Relax, Doll. I’ll call them. I’m going to find out what happened, but I want you to stay right here, okay?”
Right before she closes her eyelids and tips her head back against the sofa, I see the verdict in her eyes, convicting me as the evil one who pulled the trigger and destroyed everything. Tonight’s events have damaged her, damaged us, brutally wrecking the relationship that we were just beginning.
Pinching my eyes together, I flash back to when we were inside Holidays and I saw Wise and Natalie sitting at the table talking with someone. Shootings happen in this city all of the time, but this isn’t some common drive by with random injuries. There was only one round fired, guaranteeing a kill shot. I need to know that person’s identity this minute. In addition to that, I want my hands around Max’s throat if that son of a bitch betrayed me. On top of ruining everything with Angel, I may have lost my best friend. Whoever the fucker is that pulled the trigger and took them away from me will pay with an equivalent return. The dead feeling within, which I thought was gone, slithers back to life under my skin, like a predator, clawing its way deeply inside heart and latching fiercely onto my black soul.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The oppressive anguish inside my chest feels like it might cave in my ribcage. The poison of the horrible scene could disintegrate the bones, leaving me hollow. Anxiously, I wait for Murph to take my call, and finally, after five rings, an angry voice shouts, “Hello?” The background noise includes many raised voices and a siren wailing close by, making it difficult to hear him, but I can tell that the voice belongs to Minder.