Slow & Steady #2: A Shameless Southern Nights Novel

by J. H. Croix

  Niki set down the gun a while later, pulling off her protective wear as we strolled off the range hand in hand. A smile lit her eyes, and she seemed less tense as she leaned her head against my shoulder.

  “Thank you for bringing me back here. I had fun.”

  Turning my head, I dropped a kiss on her hair. “Nothing like firing off a few rounds for fun on a Saturday morning, huh?”

  She rolled her eyes at my teasing tone and squeezed my hand. “No, more like nothing beats getting out of the house together for a few hours to blow off some steam.”

  “I know plenty of ways we could blow off steam in the house,” I offered. “Or here, if you want to give it a try?”

  “Sonny!” She lifted her head and bumped her hip into mine. I pushed through the exit door of the range, placing my hand on the small of her back as I followed her through. The gesture was small, but it was also intimate. I couldn’t resist touching her any way, any time I could.

  Dropping my gaze briefly to my hand, I wondered when doing these casual gestures started feeling so natural. I didn’t even think. My body simply reached for her every chance I could. We stepped outside, a light breeze ruffling the hairs that had come out of her braid and blowing a few locks across her forehead.

  She pushed it away, turning to look up at me as we walked to my truck. “You never told me last night, how was the rest of your week?”

  I smirked, memories of why we hadn’t gotten around to talking after I got home from work tempting me to push her down on the hood of my truck and take her again, right there. But I very much doubted she would appreciate that.

  Instead, I let my eyes roam across the lot to shift my focus from her. “Nothing too interesting happened. You?”

  Niki didn’t know the GBI were in town, and she still didn’t know about the murder they were here to investigate. Guilt jabbed at my gut from keeping things from her, even though I was only doing it to protect her. I really, really wished I didn’t have to dump a layer of secrets on the foundation of the relationship we were building here, but it was how it had to be for now.

  The column of her throat moved as she swallowed, disbelief darkening her eyes. “So you haven’t made any progress on the men threatening you?”

  She knew I was full of shit and probably suspected there was a lot I wasn’t telling her. In the short time we’d known each other, she’d quickly become one of the few people who could read me. So well that sometimes it felt like she could almost read my mind.

  Almost, but not quite. “Nope, not really.”

  “Vague much?” She stopped next to the passenger door of my truck, yanking it open and climbing in without looking back at me. Irritation showed in the set of her jaw, her hands clenched in her lap and the small puff of air she let out as she sat down. “You can tell me, Sonny. I know you can’t tell me everything, but you have to be able to give me something.”

  “I’m giving you all I can,” I told her honestly, then shut her door and walked around the truck to climb in myself. “You have to trust me, okay?”

  Her eyes slid to me, her body angled toward the window. “It’s not about trusting you. I do trust you, but you keep telling me you want me to be safe. You brought me here to make sure I know how to use a gun, but you won’t tell me anything about the actual threats we might be facing. Doesn’t that seem counter-productive to you? I mean, how do I know who to shoot?”

  “I’ll tell you.” Starting the truck, I glanced at her for a beat before putting my arm on the back of her seat and backing out of the parking space. “When, I mean, if the time comes, I’ll make sure your gun is pointed in the right direction.”

  “What if you’re not there? Isn’t that the point of teaching me how to shoot? So I can defend myself even when you’re not there?”

  “Yeah.” I rolled my shoulders and curled my fingers tighter around the steering wheel. “But when I’m not there, and someone comes at you, that’s the person you shoot.”

  “What if it’s one of your brothers? I haven’t met two of them yet. They could be coming over to say hi and next thing you know, I’m shooting them.”

  A light turned red up ahead, and I slowed, glancing at her. “You’re not going to start randomly shooting at visitors, Niki.”

  She sighed, her posture still rigid. “I might. Don’t clam up on me like you’re doing now, please? I’m part of this. I’m not asking for everything. I’m only asking for an update.”

  “I want to tell you more, but I can’t.” I knew I sounded like I was holding back, and I could see how much it was hurting her when her shoulders slumped and her lips pressed together. “I won’t put you at risk any more than I already have. Please understand?”

  Begging wasn’t something I did, but I wasn’t above it now. Seeing the pain on her face and knowing it was because of me was killing me.

  Niki pulled her lower lip between her teeth and turned to face the window. “I understand.”

  Her voice so soft, I barely heard it above the hum of the engine. Fuck.

  Frustrated with myself and the situation, I dragged a hand through my hair. The light changed to green, and I turned my attention to the road, driving us the rest of the way home in silence.

  Niki hopped out when we got there and settled on the couch with a book after making a cup of tea. Without saying so, she was telling me she needed space. I wanted nothing more than to fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness, to tell her everything if that was what it took.

  But all the warnings from Maclin, Yates, Harris, Hanson, and my brothers bounced around in my head like rocks in an avalanche. I refused to bury her underneath them. So instead of giving in to what I wanted, I fired up my laptop and got to work in the dining room.

  Niki came in a few hours later, leaning against the wall. “Can I ask what you’re working on?”

  “Of course.” Lifting my eyes to hers, I motioned for her to take the seat beside me. The truth was I was trying to find Ken Lyons, the name she’d tracked down. Since she already knew about him, I figured I could ask for her help with this. “I haven’t had any luck tracing Ken Lyons, so I’m running his name to see if anything pops.”

  She walked over, lowering herself into the chair I offered. Reaching out, she turned my laptop so the screen was half facing her and narrowed her eyes in thought as she clicked through the windows I had open. “He might not be in any official database under that name. It could be a fake name or a shortened one. Ken isn’t exactly uncommon, but it could also be a middle name or a nickname.”

  “True.” I’d considered that. I just didn’t know what else to search. I started with the obvious, Kenneth, Kenny, Kennedy and a few others, but I was still coming up dry.

  Niki minimized the windows I was working in and opened a new tab, keys clacking as her fingers flew across the keyboard.

  “You have a different idea?” I asked.

  She nodded, her eyes darting from side to side as she scrolled through results so fast I couldn’t keep up. “Maybe, but it’s only an online search. Don’t get your hopes up.”

  “I won’t.” But it was already too late. Niki had proven to be hugely successful with her online searches in the past, and she’d found information I hadn’t come close to despite the resources I had at my disposal. Little did I know librarians had secret search powers. As a police officer, I had more training in searching online than most, yet cops were also spoiled with the access to databases. Niki appeared to have sleuthing skills when it came to hunting online more generally.

  If anyone could find this guy online, it was her. My faith was rewarded when I got back to the dining room carrying two fresh mugs of tea. Niki licked her lips, sitting back with a smug smile. “I think I found him.”

  I nearly dropped the mugs I was holding. Setting them down with loud thuds, I leaned down to read over her shoulder. “He’s in Savannah?”

  There was a picture on the screen of a man around my dad’s age at a fundraiser for a local politician. The short article u
nderneath the picture identified the man as Kenard Wilbur Lyons, a businessman and proud benefactor of the campaign of the politician named.

  I drew in a sharp breath, studying the angled lines of the man’s face and his black eyes. Could I be looking at the face of the man behind all this?

  Niki raised a finger to the screen, resting a pale pink painted nail just below a section outlining some of the past causes and campaigns Ken had been involved in. My father’s name, in particular, wasn’t there, but it stated Ken had been a contributor to numerous campaigns in the area since the early nineties.

  “My father was in the State Senate at that time,” I breathed, my lips brushing against her hair as I leaned in closer to study the campaigns mentioned.

  Niki nodded slowly, turning her head so our eyes locked and we were only inches apart. “I know, which means it’s likely your father and our Mr. Ken Lyons knew each other from back when he was the Senator.”

  This was huge. In fact, it might very well be the break I’d been waiting for.

  Chapter Twenty

  Niki

  Staring down at my phone, I reread Sonny’s text for what must’ve been the tenth time since I got it earlier this morning.

  We got a call out to help with SWAT response again. Another dealer nearby. Won’t have my phone with me on the call. If you need help, call Tyson and Jeremy. They’ll be there until I’m done.

  I took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. Rolling my head back, I stared at the high white ceiling in the library. I knew the smudges and stains on the white paint well, knew the way they swirled together though I still didn’t know how most of them had gotten there.

  Passage of time, I guessed. Usually, I studied them while I was thinking and tried to figure out the one right above my head that looked like a single, dusty handprint. I assumed it was placed there by a painter or someone who had done repairs at some point, but it was always interesting to wonder. Was it even a handprint, or just a stain that happened to look like one?

  Today, I stared blankly, my mind occupied with Sonny and what he was facing at this very moment. Georgia, like so many other areas, was dealing with the epidemic of opioid addiction. According to reports, dealers were popping up like weeds, faster than any agency could track or fight them. Their numbers were growing exponentially, and from what I’d read, for every dealer they took down, a bunch more took his place.

  Sonny often dealt with calls to major places of manufacturing or dealing. Different towns were banding together to fight the dealers in their areas, and resources, such as SWAT teams, went where they were needed despite where they were based.

  Logically, I knew all this and understood the need for it to work the way it did. On an emotional level, I was weary. The knowledge that Sonny was away on another dangerous call felt heavy in my chest. It felt never-ending.

  The death toll in the fight against the drugs and the people who dealt them was astronomical. Cops, for obvious reasons, often got caught in the crossfire. And Sonny was out there, right in the line of fire. Again.

  Restless, I stood and left my desk, trying to keep busy. It wasn’t that I didn’t have work to do, I had plenty. I struggled to concentrate. I checked my phone over and over again, but there was no news from him.

  Tension spun inside of me—tightening in my chest and throat. Worry weighed my thoughts down. Every time I checked my phone without finding a message from him, another flash of tension soared through me.

  I didn’t know how to handle this. The stress of going on potentially dangerous call outs all the time tangled in the stress over the specific threats to him. I couldn’t separate the two anymore.

  “Excuse me, miss?” a voice asked from behind me.

  I pivoted in front of the shelf I was tidying to find a middle-aged woman wearing a bright purple cardigan with a feather dangling from one ear. “Could you please point me to the philosophy section?”

  “Follow me,” I told her, trying to shake my worries loose to focus on my customer. She followed me across the library floor until I came to a stop and pointed out the row she was looking for. “Let me know if I can help you find anything specific.”

  “I’m not really sure what I’m looking for, but I’ll let you know if I need anything,” she said, pulling a book from the shelf and flipping it over to read the back cover.

  Her interruption was only a brief respite.

  I headed back to my desk, still struggling to focus. The day passed excruciatingly slowly without word from Sonny. A few more customers came in.

  A young woman searching for the self-help section and another who checked out a stack of comic books, a group of high school kids doing a geography project, and two men wanting recommendations for the next book for their action/adventure book club pick. I helped them all absently, without engaging the way I normally would.

  I was out of sorts, not myself at all. A few of our regular customers noticed, but I shrugged off their concern with excuses of being tired.

  By the time I got home, I was fighting mixed emotions. Angry with myself about being so affected by Sonny’s job, and angry with him for not calling. Every time I considered my anger with him, I felt bad about it because it wasn’t his fault. This was his job. Frustrated that I didn’t have anyone at the station I could call to check on the SWAT team, though I didn’t know if that was an acceptable thing to do. Uncertainty about my ability to deal with the inevitable consequences of Sonny’s chosen career path grew.

  My turbulent emotions kept me restless, pacing until I heard his truck pull up in the drive. When he walked in looking tired and worn, worry overwhelmed the other emotions. I launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck. “Are you okay?”

  He wrapped me in a tight embrace, smelling like clean sweat and faintly smoky. My hair moved as he spoke against it. “I’m okay. I’m sorry I’m late.”

  “I was worried sick,” I mumbled into his chest, winding my fingers into his hair.

  Pulling me closer into his embrace, he held me tight, breathing me in. I turned my head to listen to his heartbeat, steady against my ear. His deep voice rumbled in his chest. “I’m safe. It was just a long day. My phone battery died before we made it back to Cypress. I wanted to get home as soon as possible, so I didn’t charge it at the station.”

  “I’m buying you a backup battery charger first thing in the morning.” Standing in the circle of his arms, I finally felt myself relax.

  “I have one. I just didn’t have it with me.” He released his hold on me, placing a finger under my chin to lift my lips to his. His kiss was soft, reassuring. “I wouldn’t have been able to talk to you during the day anyway. We don’t take our phones on calls.”

  It made sense they wouldn’t, but I didn’t have to like it. “Next time, even if you text from someone else’s phone, just let me know you’re safe as soon as you’re done.”

  The tired lines around his eyes softened as he pressed another kiss to my lips. “I can do that, but let’s not talk about next time right now. I’m ready to put this day behind me.”

  “So am I,” I agreed wholeheartedly, rising up on my toes to loop my arms around his shoulders to hug him close again. If it were up to me, I never would let him out of my arms again.

  “I need to wash off the day,” he murmured. “Care to join me?”

  “I’ll walk with you.” Now that he was home, I wanted to wrap myself in his strength.

  He took my hand, leading me to the bathroom. When we got there, he flipped the water on to heat it up and pulled two fluffy white towels from his cabinet. “I said walk with you, not shower with you.”

  One corner of his mouth tilted up, his eyes capturing mine as he slowly undid the buttons on his shirt. My breath caught, my body immediately catching on. “You can’t distract me with sex.”

  “I’m not trying to.” He shrugged the shirt off and dropped it in the hamper. Wrapping his fingers around his thick leather belt, he pulled it from its catch and unhooked his copper b
utton. “I’m hardly going to shower fully dressed.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t have to take off your clothes like that,” I grumbled as heat slid through my veins, liquid need spiraling through me. Steam was starting to rise from the shower, warming the bathroom. My skin pebbled, my gaze locked on his hand as he pinched the metal tab of his zipper between his fingers and pulled it down.

  “You don’t have to look at me while I do it like that,” Sonny pointed out, pushing his jeans and his briefs off and stepping out of them. Gloriously naked, all six-foot-three inches of sharply defined muscles and golden skin tempted me. Beckoned to me.

  My mouth watered, and slick heat pooled between my thighs. Damn it. “I’m not looking at you like anything.”

  He chuckled, his eyes flashing when I lifted mine to them. Reluctantly. “You’re looking at me like you want to eat me.”

  “Lick you like a lollipop if you must know,” I told him, realizing there was no reason for me not to get in the shower with him. After the emotions of the day, I needed to feel close to him. He was offering me that, knowing what I needed before I even knew.

  He easily could’ve left me in the living room and told me he was going to take a quick shower, but he hadn’t done that. Instead, he brought me here with him and was making an effort to keep all my attention only on him and the fact that we were in here together, safe.

  Moving fluidly, he took a step closer as he kicked his pants free. In a matter of seconds, he dispatched of my clothes, and I stood naked before him. He was most certainly efficient. “Consider this lollipop at your disposal.”

  My lips crept into a smile. “If you insist.”

  Our lips crashed together, our arms cording around each other. Sonny tugged me into the shower, alternating between kissing me, teasing me, and washing me. When he was done, I was aching for him.

  Squeezing a generous dollop of shower gel between my palms, I rubbed them together until they were covered in silky foam. Sonny groaned when I slid my hands over his shoulders, running my hands over the muscled planes of his broad chest and rounded biceps.