by Candice Owen
Felicity saw him watching her, and she was pleased by that. She liked Blaine, more than she maybe should. Dancing with him had been so exciting, almost decadent, and she wanted to dance with him again.
She wished he had kissed her, long, soft, and slow, then harder and more fiercely. If only he had taken her face in his hands and lifted it to his so he could put his mouth on hers and brush kisses across her forehead and cheeks before taking possession of her mouth.
Just imagining him kissing her made her heartbeat so fast that she felt like she would faint. What was it about this guy that made him so different form the others? She couldn’t put a finger on it, but it was there right on the tip of her tongue.
The day wore on. Blaine was tired, and the other guys were, too. If Felicity had been out of the house as she had been supposed to have been, things might have been a little wilder; but, he didn’t care about the lack of a party atmosphere. He cared that every time he looked at her he wanted to put his hand in that nipped in waist of her dress and pull her closer to him. He wanted to kiss her and talk to her, sit down over coffee with her or something like that.
Feleicity was nothing like Joy, the stripper he had been seeing off and on since he had met up with Greg and his crew. Seeing might even have been too strong a word. If Joy had paying customers, he could pretty well fuck himself for all she cared. He knew it and was okay with it, too.
But Felicity, now there was girl that would make a good wife. She was funny as hell and sweet. She was smart, too. He knew she had gone to college and wanted to get a job in a city far from the one that she lived in, but her father would not hear of it. She was not about to hurt him over it, either.
It was weird almost, the way she treated her father. It was like she loved him but was afraid of him, too. It was almost as if she did know somewhere deep under her placid surface that her father was not one to trifle with.
Felicity had decided to play hostess because she sensed that her change in plans had caused some kind of tension. Well, it wasn’t her fault. There were other women there, too. Mostly the wives and girlfriends of the guys who worked for and with her daddy. It’s not like I’m the only girl, so why is everyone treating me like I am?
Lately, Felicity had started to wonder about a lot of things.
Blaine was coming out of the bathroom when he saw Felicity struggling to carry several trays back to the kitchen. Shaking his head, he went to her and took one without a word. She looked up at him, her soft, blue eyes filling with gratitude. Then, she said, “Thank you. I was afraid I was going to splatter mustard all over the walls if I dropped the rest of those sandwiches.”
“Now, that would be a tragedy.” He gave the green painted walls a meaningful look, and she burst into peals of bright laughter.
“It would look like a booger, wouldn’t it? Don’t tell my daddy that I said that—he loves this color green for some weird reason.”
Blaine started to point out that it was the same color as money but held his tongue. He followed her to the kitchen, watching her round bottom move below her skirt and her tanned legs glide across the hardwood floors.
She set the tray down and stepped closer to him, her eyes locked onto his. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to or want to. His arms pulled her tightly to him, and she nestled there against his chest. Her ear pressed against his broad expanse, so she could hear his heartbeat.
Blaine knew he should let her go, walk away now before things got too ugly and twisted, but he couldn’t. He was irresistibly drawn toward her, and he captured her mouth with his in a fierce, yet gentle, kiss.
They were both so caught up in the kiss that they paid absolutely no attention to what was going on around them. Neither of them saw Bennie come into the kitchen until he spoke, “Man, you better get your hands off of her. Don’t you know whose daughter she is? If you need a woman, go out and get one. Hell, go to the bar if you’re too worried about getting told no elsewhere. There is plenty of them there to choose from.”
Felicity’s eyes flew open, and she stepped back, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at Bennie. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? I’m a grown up now! I can do what I want!”
Bennie said, “Kid, I’ve known you since you were a toddler in diapers. You and I both know your daddy is not going to like you messing around with one of his hired hands.”
Frustration filled her and she snapped, “I am not a kid!”
“Yeah, you are. And you are your daddy’s kid. Nobody in their right mind is going to lay a hand on you. You in your right mind, Blaine?”
Blaine knew what he just done was beyond stupid. He had been able to avoid Felicity previously, although the last thing on earth he wanted to do was avoid her. If he wanted to keep breathing, and he did, this little incident could never happen again. “Yeah, I’m in my right mind.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Felicity wished that Blaine had told Bennie to just fuck off, to mind his own business. She knew her daddy hired ex-convicts, and it was probably the fact that they felt like they owed him loyalty and couldn’t get a job anywhere else that made them so afraid of him. Still, Blaine was not like the rest of them, he just wasn’t.
The first time she had seen him, he had been standing beside a road pissing on a cactus. She had nearly wrecked her car staring at him in her rearview mirror. Apparently, he had not seen her that day or just had not noticed her.
When she had seen him at one of the stores her daddy owned, her heart had nearly leapt right out of her chest. It had to be fate! What else could it be? How often did a stranger turn out to be an employee of somebody’s father, maybe they were destined to meet?
She wanted to talk to him and find out more about him, but it was obvious that he was just like all the rest of them in one way — he would do whatever her daddy said. And everyone knew that her daddy said that Felicity was his little girl. She knew that was why they all treated her like one!
Frustrated and irritated, she stormed off to her room. Bennie looked at Blaine, “You know I have to tell him. If he finds out from someone else—say that little piece of work that just flounced out of here—it will be my ass.”
“I understand. Do what you have to do.”
Bennie nodded, “Don’t mess around with her, Blaine. There is no quicker way to wind up riding solo somewhere no man wants to ride alone, do you get me?”
“I got you.”
They wandered out to the pool. It was not often that Greg Pasquale invited everyone over to his house, but this was a special occasion. Just the night before, Blaine had managed to pick up almost three kilos of pure meth and get it stashed. The meth had come from a police evidence locker, so everyone was celebrating his gutsy success.
Greg’s eyes narrowed as Bennie whispered in his ear, and he crooked a finger at Blaine. That little gesture really got under Blaine’s skin. He did not like answering to anybody, especially not to some guy who sat back and let everybody else do the dirty work while he took all the money and credit.
He did not say anything, as he walked over to where his boss sat. Greg said, “I catch you even looking sideways at my daughter again, and I will put both your eyes out with a hot poker. Do you understand me, son?”
“I’m not your son.”
Every ounce of noise died. Many of the women who wore the other guy’s colors stepped behind their men. A few men actually went pale. Greg Pasquale might actually commit murder all by himself over his daughter, but the more likely scenario was that he would have Blaine killed by an entire pack of guys — and it would not be a fast death.
Greg smiled a tight little smile that never reached his eyes. “I know you are having fun at the party, but I need you to go take care something for me.”
Blaine knew better than to relax. “Sure thing.”
“You know Marie?”
“The bartender?”
“Yeah, she’s there opening up the place right now. Make it look like a robbery gone wrong.”
Greg Pasquale’s eyes were dead steady. He knew that Blaine and Marie had formed a sort of friendship, but he didn’t know what kind of friendship it was. Marie had done absolutely nothing wrong, it was Blaine who had done something wrong. He been caught dancing with Felicity, and now she had to pay the price.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
Every face looking back at his wore an expression that said he was fucked. He was okay with that, he had a hand to play — and it was a big one.
Greg’s face was rosy-red with rage. “How dare you, you little punk? You want to fuck with me? I will have you killed…”
“Not here you won’t. Your daughter might see it. That would certainly tarnish what she thinks of dear old dad, wouldn’t it? Besides, I got something to trade for her.”
“Really? What might that be?”
“Last night’s score.”
He had him there. That score was worth literally millions. Greg Pasquale had the distribution ability and plenty of people willing to stomp all over the stuff with some cut to water it down enough so that it would not kill its users and would garner a higher profit. It was all profit considering the way he’d gotten it, not that he had in his possession, just yet. Blaine knew that he was playing the only card he had.
“You don’t even want to start this game with me.”
“Who says I’m playing?”
He wasn’t. He had a few thousand bucks stashed, money he had skimmed because he felt completely justified in doing it. Robbing Greg was risky and stupid, but it also paid to have some kind of a contingency plan. Blaine always knew it would come to this at some point. He just figured he would have a little bit longer before it did.
“Fine. Go get it and I’ll leave her alone.”
“Where do you want me to meet you with it?”
“At the bar.”
If the other man had said any other location, Blaine would have believed that he was going to keep his word. He wasn’t going to. He had promised he would leave Marie alone, but he had said nothing about anybody else. Blaine had to buy some time, so he said, “Okay cool. I will meet you there in two hours.”
He walked off, deliberately showing them his back, so they would know that this was his walking away from them. The silence that reigned as he did it told him that they admired his guts, but that they were going to kill him and Marie anyway.
He knew nobody was following him out, as he walked through the sliding glass doors and back into the house, pretending that he was going straight towards the front yard and the truck he had driven the night before and now over to the house. Instead, he veered off to the left, taking the stairs two at a time. The landing upstairs was wide and broad. It ran in front of a whole row of doors. Which one would be hers? He heard music playing and went to the door where it seemed to come from.
Felicity looked up, as he opened her door. She was lying on her bed, an open book in front of her. “Blaine, if my daddy catches you in here he is going to be really mad you know. You better go.”
“I’m really sorry about this Felicity, I want you to know that. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t have to.”
Her face mirrored her confusion. “Do what Blaine?”
Blaine moved fast, he grabbed her and held her close to his chest. She struggled and he knew that she was frightened, but he couldn’t help that. He needed collateral, and he needed it badly. Unfortunately for her, she happened to be just the kind of collateral he needed.
He spotted several long scarves draped over a chair, and he grabbed them with his free hand. Felicity was so shocked that she did not have time to scream before the scarf was tied tightly around her face, preventing her from being able to sound an alarm.
The second scarf went around her wrists, and he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Her head dangled, her face beating into his back and right kidney, as he ran from the room, carrying her with him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Felicity was in shock. I’m being kidnapped! Kidnapped by some crazy ex- convict that Daddy hired! 0h God! What did I do? All I wanted to do was dance with him!
Was this all my fault for kissing him? How could I have been so wrong about him? He is probably some kind of…of…sex pervert or something! She tried to scream again and her head knocked hard against a wall, as he went around a corner fat too fast, sliding on a loose rug for a moment. She saw stars, and her eyes squeezed shut against the pain.
Where is everybody? Probably still out there at the pool. Nobody ever pays any attention to me! I’m being kidnapped right from my own house, while everyone else is out there drinking beer and having a good time. If Daddy didn’t treat me like a child I, would be out there with everybody else and this would never be happening!
Blaine tossed her into the truck, cranked it up, and rolled down the driveway. Felicity had landed half on and half off the seat. She tried her best to turn her body around so that she could kick him with her feet.
Blaine caught her foot with one hand, “I don’t want to hurt you. Do you understand? This is not your fault; but, your daddy just ordered me to kill a woman that I really respect, and I’m not going to do that. The only way to keep them from killing her is for them to know that I have you.”
What the hell is he talking about? Why would Daddy order him to kill somebody? That makes no sense at all! Daddy is the nicest guy on the planet. Look at everything he does for the community! He’s always giving back!
“Let me go!” Her words were muffled by the scarf, indistinct. She groaned and got herself into a sitting position on the seat, pressing her face into the glass hoping to attract the attention of other drivers. Blaine grabbed her by the hair and shoved her back down.
If I get my hands free, I’m going to punch him right in the balls!
Blaine pulled up at the bar just as Marie was getting out of her car. She saw him and came over, “Hey, I know I am late today. Please don’t tell Pasquale. I had to go put some flowers on my folk’s graves. It’s their anniversary.” She glanced into the truck, saw Felicity, and froze like an ice sculpture. Her eyes widened, “Are you insane? Is this a joke? What the hell is going on? Why are you here in with her? I did not see that… No, I absolutely did not see that!”
“He put the mark on you, Marie. I’m supposed to do it, but I figure I owe you. I offered to trade last night score for your life. He said yes, but you and I both know he’s a liar. Get out of here, go somewhere where you can be safe.”
“Where would that be? There ain’t nowhere safe, not if Pasquale wants me dead.”
“How much money is in that petty cash bag?”
Marie shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“You better do it. “
“He will kill me, Blaine!”
“He’s going to kill you anyway.”
Felicity tried to bite through the scarves. Her head was spinning from the blow on the doorframe and the conversation these two lunatics were engaging in. Was this all some kind of plot to get her to think her daddy was a crook or something? They were the crooks! Blaine just got out of prison, and Daddy has never even gotten a speeding ticket!
“Blaine, where would I go? I don’t have any family left.”
“Then, you’re free Marie. He can’t finger you like that. Run dammit! Do it now before it’s too fucking late!”
Just then the rumble of motorcycles filled the air and Marie’s face went paler than it already was. It was too early, nobody came to the bar while she was opening — ever. There were things that Marie had to do in the bar to get ready for the night, things that would hook up illegal deals that would be done there within the dim environs. Typically, Pasquale did not want her interrupted in her work.
“Go get in your car, Marie. Do it right now. If you leave right now, they won’t see you going and you stand a chance. Go!”
Marie did not have to be told twice. Blaine cranked up the truck and tried to keep up with her as she flew down the road
He looked over at Felicity. The
girl was stunned. She still did not believe her daddy was a killing-dealing-scumbag and that was okay, at least right now. She was kicking at the dash though, and that was bad. Does she think she can kick her way right out of the car?
He didn’t have time to deal with her gently, and he didn’t have the heart to deal with her cruelly, so he said, “Stop or I’ll have to toss you out, and right now we are doing sixty. Do you want to land on the concrete out there at sixty-plus miles-per-hour?”
“You’re not a nice guy.” That accusation, muffled as it was, rang in the air. Blaine winced. She was right, he wasn’t a nice guy. Sometimes being a nice guy was impossible.
Blaine snapped open his cell phone and called Pasquale’s direct line. When he answered Blaine said, “You better call off the goons at the bar and now. I have your daughter.”