Another Day (The Firsts Book 12)

by C. L. Quinn

  Lucky stood, frozen, his eyes on the photos in his hand. When they lifted to Margot a moment later, he started to speak, then stopped when they drifted to the entrance of the bar.

  A loud voice that traveled through the sea of conversations and music drew Xavier and Margot’s eyes up as well.

  Margot’s fingers, still on Xavier’s chest, curled to clutch his tight tee shirt. Michael had just entered the room, yelling something they couldn’t understand, obviously angry, aggressively pushing everyone in his path out of his way.

  “Oh, shit!” Margot uttered. “He can’t find me here!”

  “Get her into the kitchen,” Lucky barked to Xavier, who reacted immediately.

  Margot’s head spun. She’d been in the bar watching Michael storm in, freaked out when he showed up, and was suddenly here, past the swinging door in the kitchen and had no idea how she’d gotten there. Xavier’s hands were wrapped around her upper arms.

  “How did we…?”

  “I brought us here. Ye’re upset, ya probably weren’t payin’ attention.”

  He hoped she wasn’t. Xavier had used the super-speed thing he’d discovered he could do to move them instantly from the bar to the kitchen. He knew it wasn’t normal, but he was past expecting normal from himself. Too many things about him didn’t add up.

  “What they hell is he doing here? He couldn’t have followed me. I’m sure he doesn’t know what I’m doing.”

  “He didn’t see you. Just stay here and I’ll check on him.”

  Margot watched her unexpected bodyguard disappear through the doors again. “What the fuck?” she whispered softly. It had been immediately apparent that Michael Lipnicki was upset, so what had caused it? What was he doing here, yelling, making demands, pushing the wrong people around? The regulars here for their booze would not take that well.

  Xavier pushed back through the doors, Lucky on his heels.

  Lucky shook his head. “He’s looking for the fixerman, not you, but he’s searching the bar, so you need to get out of here. Xavier will take you through the alley to your car.”

  “I took a taxi. My car’s still in the shop.”

  “You can’t just stay out there and wait for another to arrive. Xavier, why don’t you take her to your apartment? She can call the cab and wait there for him.”

  Xavier nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good plan. Are ya okay with that?”

  Go with a man she didn’t know to his apartment on this side of town? Talk about being out of your comfort zone. She didn’t have too many other options right now. Looking back and forth between Lucky and Xavier, she realized that, for some reason, she did trust these men. Something about them had rung true to her from that first night. The one thing she did know was that she couldn’t stay and let Michael find her here.

  “Okay, yeah.”

  Xavier reached for his keys. “I’ll be back as soon as I get her there, Luck. Be careful. Don’t ya provoke the arsehole.”

  “Eh, you know me, I’m no hero. Get her out of here.”

  Margot jumped when Xavier wrapped his hand around hers and led her through the back door into an alley lit by a single bulb high on a brick wall. The smell of urine assaulted her right away and she lifted her free hand to hold it beneath her nose.

  “Um, appetizing,” she commented.

  “It’s not a place for the delicate of the world, lass,” her companion remarked. “My dwellin’ is just two buildin’s away. We’ll enter through the back. Once we’re there, ya can call a taxicab, then I’ll get back to help Lucky. If there’s trouble, he’ll need me.”

  “I understand. Thank you for helping me. You didn’t have to. Both of you have been extraordinarily kind to a pushy bitch from the privileged side of the city. Just…thanks.”

  Xavier hadn’t let her hand go even though it wasn’t necessary for him to continue to hold it. He found he liked the warmth of her fingers intertwined with his. Even in the dark alley they moved through, he could see her features in shadow, her eyes glistening. She was right, she was difficult, demanding, certainly from a world where she expected what she wanted and got it…and yet he felt an overwhelming desire to be with her, to talk with her, to argue with her, and to touch her.

  Once he got her safely to his place, he’d leave immediately so that he wouldn’t be tempted to linger. Lingering with her in his apartment, his bed nearby, his cock already filling at the thought of that, was by far the worst idea for him. Not now, not until he knew who he was, what he was, and that he was finally safe again.

  “Ye’re welcome,” he responded to her gratitude, because telling her that she could thank him by taking off her clothes and getting on his bed was what he really wanted to say, and he was pretty sure that wouldn’t go over too well.

  Margot should have taken her hand back, but she liked how it felt in his much larger hand. No one had ever played rescuer for her, and it felt oddly nice to think that someone might care enough to protect her. No, she would never admit that she ever needed help, and she could take care of herself, but there was something about this oversized man that got her right in the heart. Something about him touched her. She liked him, it was just that simple, wasn’t it? Everything about him; his size, his kindness, that sexy accent, a body cut like Hercules, and some kind of overtly sexy cologne that kicked her libido into high gear. She left her hand right where it was. It hadn’t escaped her notice that he didn’t seem to want to let go either.

  When he pulled open a damaged, stained door with a metal grid screwed over the small window, she followed him up dark stairs to the third floor of the building.

  “No elevator, sorry. These old buildings either don’t have them, or they often don’t work. No one’s in a hurry to fix them, though.”

  “It’s okay. These boots are comfortable. Now, I have some six inch heels that would have been a bitch.”

  “Sounds painful,” he said. When they reached his floor, he pulled her through another door into a long hallway and led her to an apartment at the end of it. The door to the apartment had the numbers 309 written by hand in what looked like black magic marker. She thought of the elaborate brass numbers on her own apartment door. Xavier was right, this wasn’t her world.

  After he unlocked the door, he led her in and switched on a lamp. The lamp sat on a low table next to an egregiously damaged couch in an unfathomable color. Beside the couch, a small ancient television balanced unsteadily on an old-fashioned metal TV tray, the only other piece of furniture in the room. She could see a mattress on the floor in another tiny space straight ahead beyond a door, and a limited kitchen area to her left.

  “Oh. It’s, uh…nice. Um, cozy.”

  Xavier finally dropped her hand and smiled. “It’s a shithole, but it’s comfortable enough for me.”

  “I’m sure it is. It’s…it’s fine. Growing up, I lived in some pretty crazy places.”

  “Do ya need anythin’ before I go? I’ve got coffee. Other than that, I’m afraid booze and sweets dominate my cupboards and refrigerator.”

  “Thanks, but no. I’m good.” Booze and sweets, with that body? God must have decided to be very generous with this man.

  “All right, then. I’ll go.”

  Xavier put his hand on the door handle, paused, and looked back at Margot. “Be careful, it’s still dangerous, even here. Perhaps I should stay until the taxi arrives.”

  “No, I think you’re right, Lucky might need you. I’ll wait until the cab is here and I’ll go down, get right in, and be home in no time.”

  After another hesitation, Xavier opened the door. “It was nice to see ya again.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

  God, how awkward. They were acting like teenagers after a first date. The sexual tension was strong, and Margot was well aware that he felt it too. Should just throw your big ass down and do it, she thought, and knew she probably blushed.

  Nodding a goodbye to her, Xavier lowered his head as he stepped out. “Take care then, lass.”

 
Margot’s eyes followed him as he walked into the dim hallway, trying to catch a glimpse of him as he receded into the dark.

  Amused, his voice, from some distance away, came out of the darkness. “Close and lock the door, lassie.”

  Shaking herself, smiling, Margot did exactly that, thinking that the poor quality lock would likely not keep anyone out. Turning, she scanned the room.

  “So this is where you live,” she said out loud.

  It was awful. Tiny, just a dismal box, dark, dirty from years of neglect, the walls stained and un-cleanable at this point. The floor was covered with cheap stick-on laminate tile, yellowed and peeling, missing in several places to show hardwood flooring horribly scratched from sometime in its history. A single window faced what she assumed was the alley, so light would likely not penetrate, although it wasn’t getting through a layer of dirt that destroyed any transparency.

  She wandered into the kitchenette, and smiled when she saw a chipped coffee mug sitting by the stained stainless steel sink. It was shaped like a cat wearing a top hat. Picking it up, she sniffed and wrinkled her nose. Whisky, and the cheap stuff. He wasn’t picky, it appeared. As soon as she thought that, she realized it wasn’t fair. He wouldn’t have any options, not with what he likely earned. The good stuff would be untouchable. Margot decided that she would send him some top shelf Scotch as a thank you for helping her.

  Continuing her tour, she reached for her cell phone and prepared to dial the taxicab. The only other room in the little apartment was the bedroom. Her boots clicked on the hardwood floor still exposed in that room. Her eyes moved to the large mattress lying right on the floor covered with a white sheet that, amazingly, looked clean. Balled up in one corner, the top sheet draped off the edge. Two fat pillows, one pushed on top of the other, were near the top of the mattress to one side, the impression of Xavier’s head still visible. The thought of him lying there, naked, caused the deep ache between her legs to flare again.

  “This is where you sleep,” she murmured. Still exhausted from her own interrupted rest, and fascinated by the stacked pillows that showed where his head had lain, she kicked off her boots and lowered herself onto the edge of the mattress, her fingers sliding across the sheet.

  It was high quality, super-soft, smooth like satin, which she found unexpected. Moving up to the pillow, her fingers strayed along the edge of the round impression. She leaned closer and sniffed.

  God. The bed smelled like him, that heady, sexy scent that nearly drove her wild. The twitching picked up in intensity, and she could feel moisture between her legs.

  The idea of being on this bed with him really turned her on. Maybe she’d bring that bottle of Scotch back in person and see if he was interested in doing exactly that. Thinking about her life, her history with men, she couldn’t remember anyone getting to her like this. Yes, she had sexual urges, often taken care of by the Terminator, a well-designed vibrator she’d ordered online, and sometimes, not often, an attractive man she’d choose if she wanted more. But this man, she admitted, she wanted with a desperation that shocked her.

  Margot groaned. “He’s as big as a house, all male, muscled up the ass, handsome as the devil, of course you want to fuck him.”

  Talking to yourself, wasn’t that considered unhealthy?

  “Make your phone call, and get back to your life. This man is not from your world. He’s not your type.”

  He’s very much your type, another voice barked inside her head.

  After she glanced at her phone, her hand lowered, and the phone slipped onto the sheet. Staring at the pillows for a few more moments, Margot dropped her head back to fit it into the mold left behind by Xavier’s. His scent surrounded her, the sexual response ramping up so much, she slid her hand between her legs. That didn’t help, so she unzipped her pants and let her fingers move inside to touch herself, the fingertips gliding along the slit, pressing into the swollen clitoris.

  Aroused, exhausted, she let her mind wander and pictured him there, the big Scotsman, his face buried where her fingers were, and wished it were true. The moment became dreamlike, the sexual stimulation, the scent that drove her there, his image in her mind, vividly real, her lack of sleep for the past several nights, all converged on her. With a smile, and a sigh, she felt herself slipping away, into unconsciousness, into the dream. He smiled from there before he lowered his head and his tongue pushed aside her fingers to bury deep and drive her arousal home. Somewhere before she knew she’d fallen asleep, an orgasm hit in the dream. All she wanted to know at that point was when he was going to do that again, but then sleep invaded completely and Margot was out.

  “Thanks, Scottie. I did not know if we were going to make it through the night without a free-for-all.”

  “That man is insane, Luck, ya can see it. I don’t want him near the woman.”

  “It isn’t our concern. We’ve done what we can for her, but if she pursues this, it’s going to get ugly. I won’t help her. I mean, I agree with her, yeah, but no one is going to stop that man. He’s rich, and that buys freedoms people should never have. I’ve seen it too often, Scottie. If she uses those women, they’re lives are screwed. They won’t work again, no one will trust them, and he might come after them. That pretty lawyer is on the right side, just not on the winning side. I wish her luck, though.”

  While Xavier understood Lucky’s point, and he’d learned that things were never simple for those who lived this life, he couldn’t help but agree with Margot. He found it unacceptable to allow this man, money and power be damned, to continue to hurt women in service to his warped sexual needs.

  “Lucky, would ya trust me to see to it that these women aren’t harmed if they agree to help? Or to let them make the decision for themselves?”

  Quiet, Lucky continued to count the till. After he’d laid the final bill down, he looked up at this big man who he did indeed trust completely after only a month.

  A long sigh later, he nodded. “Okay, Scottie, if you want to take up her cause, who am I to stand in the way of an avenging angel and her muscled guard dog. Okay, here are their names and where you can find them. I don’t know where Brenna lives, but Cheeky will know.”

  “Cheeky?”

  “Yeah, she’s a good girl. Been on the streets since she was fifteen. I take care of her when I can, but I’ve never been able to get her to leave the life. And I could never find out her real name. Here.”

  Lucky handed a blank receipt paper to Xavier with two names written on it and an address.

  “Good luck, though. Those women aren’t likely to offer one word to your girl. Not on the record.”

  “All we can do is try. Why don’t ya go on home and I’ll finish shuttin’ us down for the night?”

  “Twist my arm. Thanks. These old bones aren’t moving any easier as the years pass. I think I’ll take a long hot bath. Don’t tell anyone, but I like to use lavender-scented bath oil.”

  Xavier grinned. “I’m writin’ it on the bulletin board tomorrow night.”

  “You’re fired.”

  Lucky grabbed his jacket and waved goodbye as he walked toward the door. “’Night, Scottie.”

  Xavier finished up by wiping down the bar and putting away the remaining newly washed beer mugs. Taking a final look around the place, everything in order, the front door locked, he left through the back door, locked it down, and headed home through the same alley he’d led Margot earlier.

  His mind stayed on her image as she stood in the middle of his apartment, a diamond in a pile of crap.

  She sparkled, even in that nasty airless room. He knew, without understanding why, that he himself did not belong there.

  He’d adjusted, though, and even thought of the place as home now, comfortable with closeness. He had few needs beyond his job; good food, booze, and a secure place to go comatose when daylight came. The apartment and Lucky had provided all of those things.

  Grinning again, he looked up at the stark sky barely visible above the tall buildings. Nay,
he needed one more thing. And he couldn’t have her.

  No one in sight at this time of night, he used his super-speed to fly up the stairs and entered his apartment in seconds. Closing the door and using the three locks he’d added to keep others out, he turned to face the small box he called home.

  She’d left the light on, and the room still carried her scent. He lifted his face to sniff and let his hand move to the crotch of his pants as he swelled at the thought of her here in this room. Had Lucky not needed him, he wasn’t sure he’d have left. The night might have had a very different end.

  “She’s out of yer league, mate,” he commented as he dropped the package he carried on the counter and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels. It was the highest quality whisky Lucky carried in the bar, and he’d grown accustomed to the taste.

  Once he’d poured a juice glass full, he downed several gulps and moved toward the couch. Setting the glass on the table that held the lamp, he pulled his tee shirt over his head, slipped his pants off after he’d removed his boots, and picked up the glass.

  Now naked, he lowered himself to the sagging couch. Daylight wasn’t far away and he could already feel the fatigue waiting to consume him. His nose twitched. Drawing a deep breath, Xavier closed his eyes and let his head drop back.

  Her scent was so powerful, even now, when he knew that she must have left long ago. It wasn’t perfume, scents like that were too sweet and he couldn’t abide them. This was her essence, that primal smell that drew a mate, a scent older than civilization, one of the reasons a male and female were irresistibly drawn to each other. How fortunate that she was safely gone, because he was aroused beyond any memory in this new life. He didn’t think he could have stayed away from her if she were still here.

  “Aw…” he groaned. Time to rest. Standing, he stretched and headed to his bed.