Up in Smoke (Firehouse Three, #4)

by Sidney Bristol

  His arms tightened until it was hard to breath. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, gasping for breath.

  I love you was on the tip of her tongue.

  Holy shit.

  What had she done?

  Alice pulled her white coat tighter around her. The one downside to being Mr. Smoke was the wardrobe. Payton had never minded the ridiculous heels or tight skirts. She’d made them look good. Alice could, too, she just liked them better when it wasn’t freezing cold outside.

  She stepped out onto the stairs, descending from the private plane to the tarmac.

  Below, Brent waited at an SUV along with a young black man.

  Dion Fuller.

  Late twenties. College graduate. He’d set up shop just outside of downtown Dallas and had begun muscling in on other people’s territory. He was smart. Educated. A cut above the average thug. She appreciated that about him.

  Alice kept her hands in her pockets.

  She wasn’t Alice. She was Mr. Smoke. And Dion would expect her to behave a certain way.

  Brent should do most of the talking, as Alice would have, if Payton hadn’t turned on her. It’d been the perfect arrangement, really. While their customers and partners were focused on Payton, Alice could observe their true nature. They weren’t as careful with her as they were with the alleged Mr. Smoke. It’d saved them a handful of times from getting into bed with the wrong person. Figuratively, of course. She couldn’t actually sleep with anyone they did business with.

  “Mr. Smoke.” Brent opened the door to the SUV. “Mr. Dion Fuller has provided transportation.”

  “Mr. Smoke. It’s good to see you again,” Dion said in a slow, Texas drawl.

  He held out his hand.

  She glanced at it.

  It was more important now than ever that she avoid contact and keep everyone at arm’s length. At least until memory of Payton’s uniqueness faded.

  The bitch.

  “The bags?” She ignored Dion and slid into the SUV.

  Dion stared at her through the tinted windows.

  Affronted?

  Like he deserved to be. He’d lost hundreds of thousands—if not millions—of dollars of her merchandise. He had no right to act that way toward her. She was going to make his name worth knowing.

  Brent directed the baggage into the SUV with the aid of Dion’s driver, while Dion himself circled the vehicle and got in from the other side.

  “Mr. Smoke—”

  “Have you found her?” Alice kept her eyes trained out of the window.

  There was no telling if the DEA had followed them. She and Brent had laid low for nearly a week, right under the feds’ noses.

  “That’s what I wanted to tell you. I think we’ve found where Alice is hiding. I’m waiting on some of my boys to check in.”

  She smiled.

  Oh, Payton, you should have never sold me out...

  “Bring her to me.” Alice reclined.

  First, they recovered Payton, then Alice’s phone and then...they could get back to doing business.

  10.

  Chaz stroked Payton’s hair and down her back. It was crazy how...right this felt. The intimacy, being together. They hadn’t spoken, not since he’d dragged himself off her and shambled to the hall bathroom. By the time he’d come back, she’d been snuggled up in his bed like she belonged there. And maybe she did.

  The idea wasn’t a bad one.

  Maybe she could go back to school. Finish her degree. Do something she enjoyed. Make a life. Together. They’d have to go slow, despite the headlong way they’d dove into the deep end. Payton was used to that sort of thing. Him, not so much.

  “I’m hungry,” Payton announced.

  “There’s some leftovers. Or we could order a pizza.” He kissed the top of her head. All his energy was gone, or else he’d make her a big meal. Feed her bite after bite until she had a little meat on her bones again.

  “Mm, pizza, please.” She tightened the arm around his waist, her face buried against his shoulder.

  “I have to get up to order.” He patted her bottom.

  “Fine.” She sighed and rolled away from him.

  “Hey.” He caught her arm and tugged her onto her back.

  Payton stared up at him, eyes heavy lidded, her smile easy. His heart knocked around in his chest at the sight of her looking at him like that.

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I ever saw.” He stroked her cheek.

  She chuckled.

  “I mean it,” he said.

  She covered his hand with hers.

  Things would forever be different. They couldn’t go back, and truth be told, he didn’t want to. Sure, there were things about Payton that frustrated him, but that was before he was free to do and say what he wanted.

  Chaz bent his head and kissed her. Because he could and he wanted to.

  Her mouth was soft, pliant.

  Maybe pizza could wait.

  “Payton?” he said against her lips.

  “Hm?”

  “Would you like me to...?” What was the right way to say this?

  “What?” She finally stopped kissing him. “Would I like you to feed me pizza in bed?”

  “No.” Heat crawled up his neck.

  “Are you...blushing?” She stroked his neck and cheek.

  “Never mind.” He pushed up. Or tried to.

  Payton had her arms around his neck, not letting go.

  “Tell me,” she pleaded.

  “Nothing.”

  “Chaz, come on. You can tell me.” She thumbed his lower lip.

  He liked her playful side. Not the flirtatious one. Playful. When she was silly or cute, with no sexual overtones. She didn’t need to try to be sexy. She just was. And she should have everything she wanted. Including a man who could speak his damn mind.

  He was a man in his thirties, for fuck’s sake.

  And he’d never...gone down on a woman.

  Her arms around his neck tightened.

  “Please?” she whispered, bumping his nose with hers.

  “Would you like me to...eat you instead?” He didn’t stammer, but damn his cheeks were on fire.

  Payton didn’t laugh. She looked up at him, eyes bright, lower lip pinched between her teeth.

  Christ, this was awkward. He should have just...not gone there. But she’d... He didn’t want to be greedy.

  “Do you want to?” she asked. There was an odd note in her voice. One he didn’t recognize.

  “I want to do what you like.”

  “I like when you pull my hair.” She ran her fingers through his hair, twining his hair around her fingers and tugging. “You should only do the things you like doing. I liked the taste of you. Turning you on.”

  “I’d like to do that.”

  “Then why are you blushing?”

  “Because...I, um, I’ve never...” Chaz dropped his face to her shoulder and groaned. “I’m a dick, aren’t I?”

  Payton laughed and hugged him to her.

  “No, you’re not a dick.” She kissed his forehead. “Not everyone’s into oral.”

  “I’ve never asked for it, but I wouldn’t turn it down.”

  “Noticed.” She grinned.

  “Do you...want me to?”

  “Do you want to?” She lifted a brow.

  “If you want me to.”

  Payton rolled her eyes and sighed.

  “Chaz, it’s not a requirement. I sucked your cock because I wanted to and I figured you’d enjoy it. There’s nothing more awkward than a guy going down on you and not being into it.”

  “How would I know if I liked it?”

  “Oh, my God.” She scrubbed a hand over her face.

  Now he was curious. Would he like it? What would she taste like? Would it be awkward for her? Probably, until he figured it out, but he could be a quick study if he put his mind to it.

  Chaz shoved the covers down. Payton yelped and tried to snatch them back.

  He crawled down her bo
dy.

  “Chaz!”

  “Now I want to know.”

  Besides, if he was going to learn on anyone, it should be Payton. If he wasn’t good, she wouldn’t placate him. He’d rather do it right than wrong any day.

  He kissed her stomach, her hip, her laughter chasing him down the bed.

  “What do you like?” He pushed her legs apart, getting his first up close and personal look at her pink skin.

  “Oh, my God.”

  “What? Should I lick or use my fingers or—what? What’s so funny?” He nibbled on her inner thigh.

  “What was that?” Payton propped up on her elbows.

  “No clue. Stop trying to get out of this—unless I’m doing it wrong?”

  “No, seriously. That sounded like the gate.” She rolled to her side.

  He cocked his head to listen.

  A muted creak sounded near the back of the house.

  “The gate just came open.” He grabbed her knee.

  A metal crash and a human yelp of surprise came from right outside his bedroom window.

  Someone was in his backyard.

  Chaz rolled off the bed, shoved his feet into his underwear and jeans, pulling them up in one move.

  “Call the cops,” he whispered to Payton.

  Her footsteps were practically soundless on the wooden floor.

  He pulled his handgun case out from the bottom drawer of his nightstand.

  Chances were, it was a couple of the neighbor kids. Still, with Payton here he wasn’t going to take chances.

  He stepped into the flip-flops he hadn’t stashed for the winter yet and walked as quietly as he could to the kitchen door that let out into the backyard. The lights in the front of the house were off, save for the Christmas tree.

  Chaz flipped the locks, glad he’d replaced the old, squeaky ones, and stepped out onto the deck, gun up. It wasn’t loaded. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, just scare them off.

  The muted voices were audible now.

  The dry grass rustled behind him.

  Chaz turned, bringing the gun up.

  “Payton,” he mouthed. “Inside.”

  Was that—why did she have a gun, too?

  She jerked her head.

  Her posture, the way she handled the firearm it was...practiced. Like she’d done it before.

  Well, screw scaring. He just wanted these kids out of his back yard.

  Chaz turned and hollered, “Hey, who’s in my back yard?”

  “Shit!”

  “Too late!”

  Chaz stepped around the corner.

  Two very large shadows separated from the rear of the house.

  Those weren’t kids at all.

  The first man lunged at Chaz.

  Chaz pulled the hammer back on his six-shooter.

  “I will shoot,” Chaz bellowed.

  That brought his would-be attacker up short.

  “Hey, man, we don’t want any trouble.” The second man snatched at the first’s jacket, pulling him toward the gate swinging in the winter wind.

  “Leave. I don’t want any trouble.” Adrenaline pumped in Chaz’s veins. Payton was right there. Out of sight, but there. If they were high, if they wanted something...she could end up a victim here.

  “We going. We going.” The two guys slowly backed into the drive, the streetlight illuminating their faces for a half second before they turned and darted out of sight.

  Chaz followed, peering out to the street, but they were gone.

  He fastened the gate. Or tried to. The latch—and lock—were busted clean off. That must’ve been what Payton heard. He’d been so focused on her that he’d...been caught unaware. If it weren’t for her sharp hearing, this could have been a different scenario.

  “They got into a dark-colored Honda down the street.”

  “Shit. Payton.” He whirled to face her. “Make some God damn sound.”

  “Sorry. Calling the cops now.”

  “No. I’ll do it. Get inside. Where the hell did you get a gun?”

  He ushered her back inside the house and double-checked all the locks. His phone was still on the charger. He snagged it and hit dial on one of the first contacts.

  Arthur Long.

  A local detective Chaz knew well enough. He’d worked plenty of cases right alongside them, including a recent one that had shaken the whole city. After a few moments speaking to the detective, then being transferred to the emergency operator, a cruiser was dispatched to his house with Arthur not far behind.

  That left precious minutes for Chaz to deal with the unexpected.

  Payton paced the living room, arms wrapped around herself. The gun was nowhere in sight.

  “Where did you get a gun?” Chaz crossed to stand in front of her.

  “It’s mine.” Payton shrugged.

  “Since when do you own a gun?”

  “Since I spend all my time traveling.” She wrapped her arms tighter around herself.

  “Payton, tell me honestly, is that gun legal?”

  “Yes,” she snapped.

  “If it isn’t, we can deal with it.”

  “Chaz. It’s mine. I have a permit, if you’d like to see it.”

  A knock at the door cut the conversation off.

  “Let me handle this.” Chaz turned toward the door.

  Shit. What if Payton was hiding something? She’d charged out there like she expected a fight. What did that say about her? And where the hell was she going that she needed a gun in the first place?

  Dion paced his office. This time of night, he should be home with a sweet young thing in bed. But that was before someone had stolen his product from him and ruined his cushy gig. Now he was living out of his office and trying his best to hide it from his remaining crew and now Mr. Smoke.

  Something was up there.

  She sounded...weird.

  Maybe it was a cold or allergies. Texas could be hell on people not used to the climate. Still, he needed to put another guy or two on her security detail to ensure he had eyes and ears on her at all times. Usually, she had an entourage. Rarely spoke for herself. This time, it was her and some old dude he’d never seen before.

  If she was in trouble, he wouldn’t let her pull what was left of his organization down with her. He’d put the bitch down himself.

  Dion’s phone rang.

  He snatched it up, fingers itching to answer.

  Everything mattered.

  He took a deep breath.

  His men were used to him being at home and off the clock by now. He had to continue to act that way.

  “What?” He put some extra roughness into his voice, going for the just-woke-up edge.

  “Dion—sorry, sir, but—holy shit.”

  “Marcus? What is it? Slow down.” Dion paced the office.

  “We found her and almost got a cap in our ass.”

  “Found—who?” He had to make sure.

  “The chick. The one with the silver hair. We found her.”

  “Did you get her?”

  “No, man, some dude she’s with pulled a gun on us.”

  “Well, go back—”

  “There’s cops there now.”

  “Shit.” Dion stared up at the ceiling. “Where?”

  They gave him the address. It wasn’t that far from the Christmas tree lot he’d driven by earlier.

  “Stand by, Marcus. I’ll get someone over there to keep an eye out. We’re going back when the heat has gone.”

  “I don’t know about that, man. Maybe we should—”

  “Are you questioning me?”

  “No, no, no, just—maybe we could do it somewhere else?”

  “It sounds to me like you are questioning my leadership.”

  “No, Dion. Forget I said anything. I’ll be here man. You just say the word. I’m here.”

  Dion ended the call. He could waste his breath going in circles with Marcus. The guy liked to run his mouth.

  Did he tell Mr. Smoke he’d found her girl? Or should he
grab Alice and find out what she knew? Something wasn’t right about all this. Better to get the goods and know their worth, than to pre-sell the merchandise. Who knew? Maybe Alice would turn over on Mr. Smoke. Give Dion something he could use. After all, it was great to have a reliable supplier, but when it boiled down to basics, all Mr. Smoke was, was a middleman. If Dion eliminated her, he could be his own boss in truth, going from the source to consumers. Bigger profits, more control. He liked that plan. Besides, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to work with a shady bitch anyway. The shock when he’d learned he was a she? Yeah, he didn’t like being made to be a fool.

  He scrolled through the names, looking for the loyal ones. The ones who hadn’t jumped ship. Unlike the rats. When he was back on top, he knew who would be at the top of his shit list.

  Payton was damned, no matter what she did.

  If she stayed with Chaz...she put him in danger.

  If she left Chaz...there was no coming back. She couldn’t be on the fringes of his life, see him with someone else, and be okay with it. No, she’d have to leave for good.

  What was the right thing to do?

  Leaving.

  The answer was simple.

  Those guys last night weren’t random. She hadn’t recognized them, but she had no doubt Alice had sent them. She could only hope that they hadn’t seen her. Why hadn’t she...put on a hat? Dyed her hair? Something?

  The moment she heard the commotion she’d just...acted. It was training. She’d only realized the danger at the end. Her stupidity.

  She needed to leave.

  To protect Chaz.

  Besides, he should have someone better than her. Someone who deserved his steady, loyal presence. She...at her best, was still a train wreck.

  She’d tried so hard to not be what her genetics predisposed her to become. And she’d done well. But...she wasn’t built for this kind of life. The undercover work put her too close to the line. When would she slip up? It’d happened once. Things had gotten out of control...and Webb had looked the other way while she’d gotten herself together.

  Chaz had seen that.

  She hadn’t had anywhere else to go.