by A. J. Macey
“This what?” Garrett ground out as he narrowed his eyes on our president.
“Kiera, all of this, going after Frankie,” Brooks questioned unapologetically.
“Of course, I am.” Garrett’s anger flared as he glared. “You better not be second guessing…”
“I’m not, Warden,” Brooks bit out, glaring back, “but you’re my officers, and I needed to be sure you were still backing this plan to go after Frankie ‘Smokes’ because this shit could explode in our faces real fucking quick.”
“I’m in, one hundred percent,” Garrett exclaimed.
“Yeah, I’m in,” I added when they looked at me skeptically. I ground my teeth and held their gazes so they could see I was being serious.
“All right.” Brooks nodded when he realized I was telling the truth. “Let’s just take the day to relax as much as possible and let Kiera do what she needs to do to get back to her old fierce self, okay?” We went to answer, when the door to the basement swung open, our girl striding through the space confidently with two bags clutched in her hands. She only slowed when she saw us all around the counter, her eyes narrowing as they darted between us. Her hair was messy but still braided over her shoulder, and her dark circles were worse than Chase’s. Her eyes though, were what held my attention.
Anger.
Fear.
Revenge.
All swirling in the darkened green and brown of her irises as her shoulders rolled back. We stood in an awkward silence, her watching us as we eyed her, wondering what she would do, when she turned on her heel and walked away.
“Don’t make a mess out of my kitchen, troublemakers!” she called over her shoulder. A tension I didn’t realize I had eased at her voice even if her statement sounded a bit forced.
My brat is back.
Thirty Minutes Earlier
Chase
“Kittycat?” I called softly as I descended the stairs, an energy drink clutched in my hand. I had left Stone upstairs to fend for himself, not caring that he was stuck watching my usual cooking show. Kiera didn’t respond to me calling out, so my eyes sought her out as soon as I reached the bottom of the stairs. My kittycat had not yet moved from her spot on the cement floor, her blueprints, notes, and maps spread around her in an array of paper. Her right index finger tapped against the blueprint in a rhythmic pattern as she scribbled notes with her left. I watched her, lost in her own trance; anger and the pulse of wanting cold-blooded revenge filled me as she tried to take back the little control I knew she needed.
“Kittycat?” I crouched down beside her holding the can out for her to see. “I brought you another energy drink, my little thief.” She didn’t even seem to hear me, her torso rocking back and forth ever so slightly as she worked.
My kittycat. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest. I hated that she had to rewatch a piece of some of her worst memories, but we had pushed off telling Brooks and Stone long enough. I couldn’t ask anyone to go into this war that was about to start without knowing exactly why they were fighting. Ciar nudged me, the blackened and dark emotions brushing against my own in his weird attempt to tell me it would be all right. As well as remind me of all the painfully wonderful things we were going to do to Frankie and his followers.
“Kittycat,” I tried again, lying on my back until I was right under her and she was forced to look at me instead of her paper. “I brought you some more energy drink.” She blinked, startled out of her little world as she looked down at me.
“My little assassin,” she mumbled in confusion, her voice rough and cracked as she spoke. I smiled at her, my fingers tracing her cheek before tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“There you are, Kittycat.” I turned my head so I could look at her upright instead of sideways.
“What time is it?” She shifted back, groaning. Rubbing her hands and neck, she glanced around.
“Eleven,” I answered, sitting up as I held out her can. Grabbing it, she cracked it open and chugged.
“Explains why I’m so sore, sitting on the ground for twelve hours and everything,” she whined, shifting off of her knees.
My eyes widened slightly before I could hide my reaction. Twelve hours?
“What? Why are you looking at me like that my little assassin? I needed a few hours to kind of... rein all that in…” She trailed off, waving a few fingers at her head.
“It’s not that, Kittycat, it’s the fact it’s been twenty-four hours not twelve,” I explained hesitantly. Had she really been so lost in her mind that she didn’t realize how much time had passed? Where was Garrett when I needed him? He’d been around her when she needed time to regain control. I mean, I had listened when he explained last night that she would need some time to work, to take back that sliver of control she didn’t have growing up, but he forgot to mention that she would completely lose herself in her mind. I knew what it was like, having experienced it the first few times Ciar appeared. It was very taxing to the mind, body, and spirit.
“What?” she breathed, finally looking at the notes she had been working on now that I was no longer lying over the top of them. “Wow, I really wanted to get that heist done,” she mumbled, her tan cheeks paling as she realized the extent of her PTSD attack.
“Here’s some food, Kittycat. I made it two hours ago, but I know how much you love cold pizza.” I reached up onto the table and pulled down a plate piled with a few slices of pizza. “What are your plans for the night?” I asked as she started to nibble on the slice she’d picked up, her eyes avoiding me as she studied her notes.
“Probably get this job done, and hopefully I’ll be out of this weird funk soon.” She looked at me before continuing, “Thank you, you know, for the pizza and energy drink.”
“Of course, my little thief, I’ll always be here for you. Now, you get that sexy ass up off this floor and get that job done.” I tried to pep her up with one of my cheery smiles, brushing a quick kiss against her cheek. Chuckling softly, she shifted forward and up off the ground.
“All right, all right, I’m up. I’ll see you guys in a few hours. It’ll be an easy enough lift,” she reassured me, her eyes slowly brightening, returning to their normal fiery mossy depths despite the ghostly shadows of her past that had tried to dim their glow.
“Good, see you soon.” I kissed her hard before pulling back, my own thoughts spiraling as Frankie’s cold face flashed in front of my mind.
“Let’s go see what we can dig up about our next hit,” Ciar’s cruel voice whispered through my mind, “I want to see the best place to tie him up, so we can take our time with him in that bloody casino of his.” I smirked.
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Kiera
Control.
Tapping, my hand flew over the pages as I took notes, my brain on autopilot as it warred with memories of the past.
“Get on the bed, Kiera,” Lorenzo hissed, his ice-cold gaze hardening. Despite knowing what was at stake, I couldn’t make my feet move. Please don’t make me.
“All right, have it your way.” My bodyguard shrugged disinterestedly as he pulled the wrist and ankle straps from under the bed, but I knew if I looked into his eyes I would see heated glee…
No. Control, I bit out. The papers came more into focus as I actively pushed against the haunting feeling of hands, mouths, whips, and chains that had marred and marked my skin.
“If it isn’t the lovely, Kiera,” the rich man purred, his suit tailored to perfection as he looked down at me. “I have heard so much about you.”
Acid burned my throat at the insinuation, at knowing that probably all the men, even some of the women, in this room had seen my ‘sessions.’ Smile, or it’ll be worse for you, I commanded myself, but deep down one thought echoed through my mind.
Somehow, someway I will make all of them pay.
Tap, tap, tap, my finger’s rhythmic pattern pulled me back. Control. My torso shifted ever so slightly forward and backward as the pictures around me
came into focus along with the notes. Glossy colored photos of the museum. That’s right, a job, I realized as I looked at the blueprints. The one thing you’ve had control over for years.
“Kittycat,” Chase murmured, his face appearing under me. “I brought you some more energy drink.”
“My little assassin,” I whispered as my brain finally processed what it was seeing. The feeling of his fingers on my face as he tucked a few strands of hair out of my eyes centered me within myself.
“There you are, Kittycat.” His smile warmed my ice-cold chest. My brain wandered as we talked, him explaining what had happened while I was working.
Twenty-four hours. I struggled to believe I had been locked in my head for so long, but if my body’s stiffness was any indication, it was more than correct. The demons from my past danced just on the other side of the barrier in my mind, only held at bay by focusing on the job. A job would be the perfect way to center myself. It’s like meditation or some shit; normal people do that, right?
“Good, see you soon.” Chase’s goodbye and loving kiss cemented that barrier in my head, the hell locked away for now. Knowing they could come barreling forward at any time, I got to work, pulling my gear from the racks and shelves that littered one section of the basement, my eyes purposely ignoring the missing TV. When my gear was loaded into the backpack and my thigh bag, I headed upstairs to change. Brooks, Garrett, and Stone were collected around the island all watching me shamelessly. I slowed, staring back.
What kind of trouble are they getting into now? When I realized they weren’t going to tell me what they were doing, my attention turned back to the museum job.
“Don’t make a mess out of my kitchen, troublemakers!” I called out over my shoulder as I strode from the room.
Let’s go rock this fucking job.
A sense of stability settled over me, the feeling of being out of control and off kilter finally dimming until I barely noticed it as the cool evening air whipped through the window of my job car. As if a tremendous weight had been lifted, I took a deep breath, my lungs able to expand to capacity now that I didn’t feel like a boa constrictor had taken up residence around my chest. Pulling into the driveway, I tapped a pattern against the steering wheel while I waited for the garage door to open so I could park the SUV I had picked up earlier that week.
The house wasn’t quiet as I expected, the TV playing some action movie I hadn’t seen yet with all my men scattered around the room. I couldn’t stop the smile that curled my lip as I looked around at each of them. Fucking assholes are making me all mushy, I noted when a bloom of warmth took hold of my chest. Shaking the ooey gooey emotions from my head, I focused my attention on getting a beer. The sound of me dropping my keys in the bowl and opening the refrigerator must have caught their attention because when I turned back to them, they were staring shamelessly.
“What?” I asked, walking into the living room, flopping ungracefully over Brooks’ and Garrett’s laps since they had decided to be couch hogs, the two of them taking the entire cushion. “Stop staring at me. I might like to be watched, but I’m not an exhibit at the zoo.”
“Hey, Baby.” Brooks chuckled at my response, wrapping an arm around my legs to readjust them while Garrett shifted me so I was leaning against his chest with his arm curled around my back. “Nice to see you making yourself at home.”
“Well, if you two fat asses hadn’t taken up the entire thing, I wouldn’t have used you as a footrest,” I countered with a smile, lifting a challenging eyebrow.
“I’m not complaining, feel free to use me as a seat anytime,” Brooks responded with a flirty wink. “Now stop talking, Baby, I haven’t seen this movie yet.” Rolling my eyes, I obliged, cuddling into Garrett’s muscled chest.
“You all right, Kitten?” Garrett whispered softly, his lips brushing the curve of my ear.
I knew I should be upset about them showing Brooks and Stone the video, but I couldn’t be. I had agreed and as much as I fucking hated it, they were right. Don’t tell the asshole I said that though.
“I’m good,” I reassured him with a tiny smile. His emerald eyes drank me in, sweeping over my face as I looked at him.
“Promise?” The tips of his fingers brushing over my shoulder blade sent a wave of tingles through me, that warmth growing in my chest at the softness in his scruffy face.
“Garrett, you don’t need to coddle me. I’m good.” I poked him in the chest, uncomfortable with how I was feeling. It was too fresh after my spiral, my mind and emotions too raw to think of everything. Garrett seemed to understand, flashing me a smirk and grabbing my hand that was stabbing his chest before turning back to the TV. It was only a few minutes before I slipped into the pit of sleep, comfortable and safe with my guys surrounding me.
I’m coming for you, Frankie, and I have a whole army behind me.
Chapter 14
May 25th
Saturday Evening
Kiera
How do strippers wear these kinds of get ups? I thought, adjusting the tops of my thigh-high stockings and garter belt clips. I’m tired just trying to get it on. The lace of the black lingerie was soft against my tits, hips, and ass as I straightened, my eyes trailing over my outfit in the mirror. Shifting my attention, I took in my hair which was tousled in messy waves that fell around my shoulders. My green brown eyes were ringed with a heavy dose of smudged eyeliner and shadow, the rest of my makeup tastefully done to keep most of the attention on my eyes.
“Hot damn, Baby.” Brooks’ voice was as smooth as the low ball of whiskey I had on the bathroom counter next to me, both causing fire to burn in my veins. Brooks’ icy eyes heated as they slowly took in my skimpy outfit, resting on the black lace covering my tits and the curve of my ass exposed by the cheeky lace underwear. “You look good enough to eat,” he murmured, closing the distance between us, rough hands gripping my hips as his soft shirt brushed against my back. “I actually came up here to talk to you, but I can’t fucking think straight with you like this.”
A breathy moan echoed against the marble as he kissed my shoulder before tracing his tongue over the tattoo I had on the right side of my neck. His hard cock strained against his jeans as he rocked his hips against my ass. Reaching back, I tangled my fingers in his golden blond hair, reveling in the contrast between his hot tongue and rough facial hair. His callused fingers trailed the edge of my thigh where it met my throbbing pussy, barely teasing me in the most delicious way as he crept closer to my clit with each pass. Unfortunately, the sound of the doorbell ringing pulled us out of our little fog of lust. Growling, I snatched up my phone and pulled up the front door camera.
“Fucking Feds,” I bit out, feeling rage pulse because I was now horny as fuck, and they interrupted my time with my sexy MC president. “Hand me that dress.” I pointed to the simple black tank wrap dress I planned on wearing over my disguise. I threw it on, holding off on the lip stain I had yet to put on because Brooks distracted me. Snatching up my small handbag, I slid on my stilettos quickly before practically running down the stairs.
“Holy shit,” Stone muttered, watching me hustle down the stairs. “How the fuck do you run in those things?” he asked, pointing to my shoes. I smirked, patting his chest as I walked by.
“I’m a talented woman, Stone, maybe one day you’ll see just how much,” I called over my shoulder. Brooks burst out laughing at my comment.
“You still haven’t fucked our girl? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Brooks teased through his laughter.
“Fuck off, Boss,” Stone huffed. Seeing Garrett coming out of the kitchen in his proper outfit, I hooked an arm through his, practically dragging him toward the door.
“Go in the security room, we’ll be back in a few hours. Be good,” I spouted breathlessly, not wanting to keep the agents waiting so long that they would go snooping around the perimeter of our house. Stopping briefly, I popped up onto my toes to give them both kisses, rushing too fast to give much thought to Stone’s wide-eyed surpr
ise that he was included in the entire ‘relationship’ aspect of our weird ass fucking family... thing...
Or whatever the hell we are.
Garrett
Kiera took a deep, steadying breath before opening the door and plastering a polite smile on her face. Agent Samson was standing on the porch looking bored as hell and like he’d rather be anywhere else while the other Fed, Agent Venry, was meandering around the closed garage doors. I had to bite my tongue to not snap at her blatant disrespect of our property as we stepped out of the house and onto the porch.
“Can I help you?” Kiera questioned sweetly, the smallest hint of ice threaded through the question as she started toward the driveway where Agent Venry turned to look at us.
“Oh, Mr. Casterelli, I didn’t realize you would be here this evening,” the head agent spouted, looking genuinely surprised, but I couldn’t revel in the shock because I wasn’t Mr. Casterelli.
“It’s Newlyn,” I bit out. “I didn’t follow my mother’s footsteps in changing the last name.” Agent Venry’s brow raised slightly, but she didn’t respond since Kiera cut her off.
“Is this important?” she questioned, glancing at her watch. “We have plans with a friend tonight, and we have reservations.”
“I didn’t realize you were friends with your stepbrother, Miss Casterelli. I was told you two didn’t like each other,” the agent replied, blatantly ignoring Kiera’s question before turning her attention to me. “Mr. Newlyn, when was the last time you saw Frank Casterelli?”
“When I was twenty,” I answered honestly. I had only continued to pop up at his estate after moving to the compound because Kiera had been trapped there until she was eighteen. “I rarely saw him then, and I haven’t seen him since.”