by M Never
She ponders this for a while.
“Does Ellie know?” she finally asks.
“Yes, she knows.”
“Was Kayne involved with her kidnapping?”
My jaw drops, but no words come out. I’m not at liberty to speak about classified operations. “What makes you ask that?”
“I don’t know. A feeling. Did he save her or something?”
I breathe a silent sigh of relief. If she only knew how involved Kayne was with Ellie’s kidnapping, I think she’d have a whole new opinion about her brother-in-law.
“That’s a conversation for another time,” I sidestep the question, “and a higher clearance. The bottom line, I can help you. You just have to trust me and tell me everything.”
Tara chews on her bottom lip so hard, I’m afraid she’s going to bite right through it.
“Tara. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise, but you have to let me in.”
Her eyes well with tears. “It’s not me I’m worried about. They threatened to kill my parents and Ellie and Kayne.”
“That will never happen. We’d see them coming a mile away, but you have to tell me who they are,” I urge.
Tara finally breaks down. “His name is Nino. He’s Philly’s brother.” She spoon-feeds me some information. “We all grew up together. Nino is a few years older. We dated for a little while, but things didn’t work out. A few months ago, I was having some financial problems, living in the city, school, my apartment. Tips don’t exactly pay for all that. So Nino offered me an alternative. I had no idea what he was into until he took me to the club. He showed me what went on and how it worked. He told me I could stop whenever I wanted. He promised. So I don’t know, I did it. I just held my breath and jumped in.”
And now she’s drowning.
“Nino showed up at Jo Jo’s. He saw us together the other night. He thought you might have been an undercover cop. Accused me of snitching.”
“Did you tell him who I was?”
“No. I just told him I thought you were another subscriber. That you knew the code word.”
“And he believed you?”
“Well, he didn’t blow my head off when he shoved his gun in my mouth, so I guess so.”
“What?” I nearly shoot through the roof. That motherfucker is so dead.
I take a few calming breaths. I don’t want Tara to see me lose my shit a second time. I’ll save it all for Nino.
“Fucking Christ, Tara.” I drop my forehead to hers.
“I know, it’s a mess,” she says hopelessly.
“Yes, but we’re going to clean it up,” I promise her.
“How?” she asks despondently.
“I’m going to figure that out. I just need a little time.”
She doesn’t look completely convinced. And that’s okay, she’s never seen me in a work environment. But she will.
“Get some rest.” I deliver a soft kiss on her lips. I want to devour her but now isn’t the time. “I have some things I need to do.”
“Are you leaving?” She clutches my arm tensely.
“Not for a second.”
“Good.” She relaxes.
“Where’s your phone?” I ask.
“In my bag.” She points to the little square wallet looking thing on the bed. I pull it out and hand it to her. “Unlock it.”
She does. Warily. I scroll through her music until I find the right artist . . . what’s her name again? Oh yeah, Grace Potter. I hit shuffle, and a song called “Apologies” starts to play. How fitting. Tara perks up just a bit as I place her phone next to her bed on the stackable plastic drawers. Her apartment reminds me a little of a dorm room.
“Close your eyes. Get some rest. I have to make a few calls, and then I’ll come lay with you.” I go to kiss her forehead, but she lifts her face and catches my lips, kissing me affectionately. It’s apologetic, grateful, and pleading all at the same time. In a split second, she has me under her spell and pulling on her shirt.
“You need to rest.” I try to contain myself.
“I need you,” she replies vehemently.
It takes every ounce of restraint I have to say no when all I really want to say is yes. I’ve missed her body, thirsted for it, but now is not the time.
“Later.” I let her down gently. “There are some important calls I have to make. They can’t wait.” Tara nods, clearly worried I don’t want her. That’s so far from the truth. I’d much rather be buried balls deep inside her warm wet body than subject myself to self-inflicted torture. But it has to be done.
“I promise.” I kiss the inside of her wrist. “When I’m finished, I’ll be all yours.”
“Okay,” she acquiesces.
I stand up and walk to the front door. It’s like seven steps away.
“I’ll be right outside.”
She nods then closes her eyes. She’s more tired than she’s letting on. I watch as she lays there, the soulful music acting as a lullaby.
Once in the hallway, I pull out my phone and start the process. My first call is to Simon, an associate of mine at Endeavor. We call him the gatekeeper because he’s one of the most skilled hackers on the planet. If you’re picturing a tall, skinny nerd with glasses who loves plaid, your assumptions would be correct. He also takes OCD to the next level. He basically runs Endeavor from an ivory tower. No one goes into where he lives, and he barely ever comes out.
“Hello?” Simon picks up on the second ring.
“It’s me.” I pace the hallway.
“Hold.” He’s cleansing the line.
“What’s up?” I hear him typing away at super speed.
“Have you slept?”
“Of course not. Why are you calling? Do you need something? I know it’s not to check on my sleeping habits.”
“I need a background check. A guy named Nino De Blasio. Everything you can find on him. Just uncovered a subscription pros ring in Hell’s Kitchen.”
“A what?” I hear him stop typing.
“A subscription prostitution ring. Johns pay a monthly fee to sleep with as many girls as they want.”
“Like Netflix?”
“Sure. Whatever you want to compare it to,” I say, annoyed.
“Strike a chord with you, huh?”
“You can say that.”
“All right, give me a few. Is there anything I should bring Adams in on?”
He’s referring to Commander Adams, who is basically Simon’s tactical counterpart. If boots on the ground are needed, he’s the man to coordinate it.
“Not yet, but I’ll let you know. I do need two security details.”
“Names?”
“Alec Stevens and Monica Stevens. I don’t want eyes taken off them.”
“Stevens?” Simon muses inquisitively. “Like Kayne Steven’s in-laws?”
“One and the same.”
“Is there something I should know about?” He presses.
“Nothing I can’t handle. Let me know when you get the info.”
“Roger.”
I hang up. One landmine averted.
Phone call number two. This one should be easy.
I press the random number in my recent calls. It rings three times before he picks up.
“Well, if it isn’t Houdini. Where did you disappear to the other night? Been trying to get in touch.” Slade’s gravelly voice comes through the speaker.
“Yeah, sorry man. Hit a brick wall.”
“All good?”
“Getting there. I need a favor.”
“What’s up?”
“Can you swing by my hotel room? I need my laptop. It’s kind of urgent.”
“Sure. Where are you?”
“Tara’s. I’ll explain everything when you get here. Text you the address.”
“It’ll be done.”
“Thanks. There will be a key waiting for you at the front desk.”
“Be there first thing in the morning.”
“Sounds good. Bring coffee.”
“Done.”
Click.
Two down. I text Slade, then email the hotel.
I pop my head in the apartment to check on Tara. She’s passed out cold, and the music has finished playing.
I gather all my courage and dial the number I dread. But I have to get him ‘in the know.’ It’s midnight in New York, which means it’s six P.M. in Hawaii. Which also means Kayne is probably doing one of three things—eating, fucking or working out. I really hate to interrupt any of those activities, but I have no choice. It has to be done. The phone rings, and I grab my balls just for good measure. They’re probably going to shrivel the second I hear his voice.
“Hello?” Luckily, he doesn’t sound irritated, but I know I’m about to rile the sleeping dragon.
“Yo, it’s me.”
“Juice? Where the fuck have you been, man?”
“Are you alone?” I start pacing again.
“No. I’m spending ‘quality time’ with my wife.” I know exactly what he means by ‘quality time’. Fuck. “And you’re interrupting it.”
“There’s an issue.” I cut to the chase, relaying cryptically.
“Okay, hold on.” He becomes serious.
“Alright, what’s up?” I hear a door close. “Where the fuck have you been, anyway?”
I take a deep breath, my heart punching against my ribcage.
“In New York. With Tara.”
There’s silence for a few long nerve-racking beats then . . .”You snuck off to New York so you can fuck my sister-in-law?” He erupts on the other end.
“No. It’s not like that—”
“Juice, I’m going to fucking kill you. I told you to stay away from her—”
“Kayne—”
“You better thank your lucky stars you are five thousand miles away . . .” He keeps going on and on, which I fully expected. And I am thanking my lucky stars I’m five thousand miles away because I know if I were standing in front of him, he’d have his hands wrapped around my neck.
“Kayne!” I shout, finally able to interject. “It isn’t what you think. I wasn’t just fucking her! I love her!”
Radio silence.
“Kayne?”
He expels a long sigh. “There is just something undeniable about those Stevens women, huh?”
“Yes, there is,” I agree. “And mine got herself into some trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
I’m almost hesitant to tell him. “Prostitution.”
“WHAT?”
“I’m handling it, but I wanted you to know what was going on.”
“I’m coming.”
“No, man. I can handle this. I already got Simon involved and have placed security detail on Alec and Monica.”
“What the fuck do they need security detail for?”
“Pimp’s been threatening her family. You and Ellie, too. Taking precautions.”
Kayne growls like a vicious animal through the phone.
“Juice, you better fix this, fast . . .”
“I am.”
“Kayne?” I hear Ellie’s voice echo in the background.
“I gotta go,” he says menacingly, as if he’s threatening me right through the phone.
Click.
I exhale the breath I have been holding for the last five minutes and smash my fist against my forehead. What a fucking mess.
I go back inside and take in the sight of a peacefully sleeping Tara. It instantly calms me. I crawl onto the bed next to her and pull her into my arms, careful not to hurt her. I stare at the ceiling most of the night strategizing, talking myself out of a mask and fully loaded sniper rifle ten times over.
I WAKE UP EARLY, IN CJ’s arms. I feel safe, exactly where I’m meant to be.
My ribs still hurt, but not nearly as much as last night. I thank God for small favors. I roll over to face him, digging my nose into his neck. He smells good, like aftershave or cologne of some sort. Clean. I just lie there inhaling him, getting high off his scent.
“You better quit that,” he murmurs sleepily. “I promised Philly I’d stay away from you last night. All bets are off this morning.” He slides his hand down around to my ass and pokes his erection into my thigh.
Is that why he wouldn’t touch me? Because of Philly?
“I told you I needed you last night. Nothing’s changed.” I suck on his neck lightly, the stubble from his five o’clock shadow tickling my skin.
CJ pops his eyes open, the dark brown turning to cognac in the bright morning sun.
“I don’t want to end up hurting you more.” He places his hand over my rib.
I shake my head. “The only way you can possibly hurt me more is if you reject me.”
“I could never reject you.”
That’s all I need to hear. I lift my head and shove my tongue right between his lips, kissing him like the desperate woman I am. Like the needy, wanton, emotionally-impoverished beggar I’ve become.
He kisses me back with equal vigor, grabbing my hips and moaning into my mouth, reducing us to two starving vagabonds finally indulging in a seven-course meal.
“Up,” he spontaneously announces, dragging me out of bed.
“Where are we going?” I lock my arms around his neck, trying to climb up his body.
“Into the shower,” he mumbles between famished kisses, pulling me off the ground.
“Why?” I wrap my legs around his waist and fuse my mouth to his, our tongues playing a wild game of cat and mouse.
“To abolish our sins.” He walks us into the bathroom and drops me gently onto the floor. With quick, provisioned movements, he turns the shower on and then strips me of all my clothes. His are gone a moment later. After we’re both naked, he inspects me with his hands, running his fingertips over the bruised skin on my side and the black and blue mark on my face.
“I’m going to kill him, Tara.” He kisses my cheek. “Over and over again.”
“I didn’t know you could die more than once.” I close my eyes, relishing his touch.
“That’s the misconception about death. You can die multiple times, in multiple ways, and I plan to make him suffer.” He hums darkly, touching me so tenderly I feel the affection in the deepest, most inner part of my soul. A place no one has ever reached before.
I nearly tackle him, overcome with need and an abundance of emotion.
“Please, I need you,” I beg him. “Just you, only you.” I’m talking crazy, drunk with desire and distress.
Before I know it, a stream of hot water is soaking my hair and a barrage of even hotter kisses are searing my skin. I’m alight with need, my body pleading, and my clit pulsing just from CJ’s sheer proximity.
Everything happens so fast and moves so quickly as I’m swept right off my feet and pinned to the wall.
“You’re on the pill, right?”
I nod zealously. “And I’m clean. I swear. I would never . . .”
CJ silences me with an eager kiss as he sinks into my already enflamed folds. I expel a hysterical moan, lightheaded from the feel of him. He takes his time, pumping in and out of my pussy slowly, savoring every second. But I want more, so much more. I need more.
I grind my hips, tightening around his cock. There is an orgasm buried so deep inside me, it’s literally trying to claw its way out.
“Make me come! Oh God, please, make me come!” I implore, becoming more desperate by the second.
“Not yet. Not until I hear you say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you love me.” He looks me in the eyes, water dotting his face as it bounces off his shoulder.
“You know I do.” I clutch his head in my hands. “I said it and I meant it and I will never take it back. I can’t ever take it back.” I kiss him riotously. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” I chant sincerely.
“Mmm . . .” He moans into my mouth, seemingly appeased as he palms one of my ass cheeks and drills into me. I actually scream from the delicious force a
s I sink my nails into his back. CJ begins to pound away, finally giving me exactly what I’m begging for. Hard, deep, penetrating thrusts and abusive clitoral stimulation. I whine and whimper as CJ grunts and groans, slamming into me over and over, punching me right in the g-spot.
“Fuck!” The wind is knocked out of me as I shatter, the emotionally-charged climax ripping me to shreds. I cry through my orgasm as a rush of relief carries away the weight on my chest.
“Tara, don’t cry.” CJ holds me close as he finds his own release, his muscles tightening and his voice straining. But I can’t stop the tears no matter how hard I try. I’ve kept my lies hidden so long, now that they’ve surfaced, I have no control of the poignant effect.
CJ holds me securely as I cry out every single cathartic tear, drowning out the sound of shower spray and his choppy breathing.
“Do you feel cleansed?” he asks eventually as he plants soft, loving kisses down my neck.
“More than cleansed.” I sigh emotionally, my lip still trembling. “Absolved.”
AFTER OUR FIRST THOROUGH CLEANSING, we got dirty all over again. It was exactly the remedy I needed. By the time we stumbled out of the shower, it felt like I was beaten up all over again, but in the best possible way.
I walk out of the bathroom and nearly lose my towel. “Jesus!” I jump. “How did you get in here?”
Slade is sipping coffee casually on my couch. He turns his mysterious gaze up to me. “I picked the lock. Didn’t think you two were ever going to come out of there.”
“You picked the lock?” I bat my eyes.
“Yeah, not much to it. This is New York. You should consider investing in a deadbolt. Wouldn’t want to get your pretty little head into trouble, would you, sunshine?”
“No,” I answer simply. It’s a little too late for that anyway.
“You weren’t kidding when you said first thing in the morning.” CJ exits the bathroom also wearing only a towel. They bump fists. “And you brought coffee.”
“You said it was urgent. I don’t fuck around with urgent.” Slade stands up and hands CJ a cup of coffee. He then turns his attention to me, taking my chin with two fingers and inspecting my shiner. “Fucked you up pretty good, huh?”
I look down at the floor, embarrassed. “Least it’s not permanent.” He lifts his head so I can see his scar under the brim of his hat and regards me darkly. It makes my scalp prickle.