Killer

by Jessica Gadziala

  "No."

  "That's okay," he said, seeming to find very little offensive, no matter how much I tried to be that way. "I'll just have you for lunch. And dinner. And dessert."

  I watched the pot on the stove, ignoring the tightening of my sex at the promise of his words. Why couldn't my mind and body be in agreement about him being a bad idea?

  "Relax, honey. We'll order in," he said, hopping down and moving out of the kitchen.

  I fought the urge I had to call him back, to ask him not to walk away from me, to come and tease me and kiss me and make things better. But that wasn't his place. He wasn't my boyfriend. As much as he thought it was cute to joke around about being okay with my staking claim, I knew better. He wasn't that kind of guy. And, well, I wasn't exactly that kind of girl either.

  I had to let him walk away.

  And I had to get okay with that sensation.

  --

  It was the middle of the night after tossing and turning for a good two and a half hours, when Johnnie climbed into bed, rolled me onto my stomach, slid a knee between my legs and half-laid his weight over my back, pinning me in place. And that was when I could finally get to sleep, his breath warm on my neck, his body a comfortable kind of heavy.

  Then, I was awake. The sun was slanting through the pulled blinds and I blinked away the traces of sleep. Already awake, or waking up because of my movement, Johnnie made a grumbling noise in the back of my neck. "Too early."

  "You have your days and nights mixed up," I informed the pillow, unable to move.

  "Not mixed up. I just like the nights better," he said, planting his forearms on the mattress and starting to lift up. The movement had his knee brushing the juncture of my thighs and I heard an unexpected gasp rush from my lips. His entire body froze at the sound and I had the weird, unnecessary urge to hold my breath. Then he was moving, but only his knee, pulling back, then rubbing between my legs again. This time, it wasn't a gasp, it was more of a small whimper. "Fuck, so sweet," he said, nuzzling his face into my neck. His knee shifted away, but only because his hand replaced it, stroking me through my pajama pants until I was arching my butt backward, trying to give him better access.

  Taking that as permission, his hands went to my pants, grabbing the waistband of them and my panties and slowly dragging down so my bottom was exposed. The material stayed bunched around my knees and his hand moved to stroke up my exposed cleft.

  "So wet," he murmured, shifting his hips and I felt his hardness press against my butt. "This hurt?" he asked, slipping a finger easily inside me, drawing out a moan. "I'll take that as a no?" he chuckled into my hair as his finger started to thrust hard and fast. "Think I'm gonna fuck you like this, baby. You want that?"

  "Y... yes," I whimpered, rocking my hips in rhythm with his finger. "Johnnie..."

  "Fuck," he growled, pulling his finger out of me and I felt his knees straddle my hips as he leaned his torso toward the nightstand where I heard him fumble with the box of condoms. He came back and sat on his ankles for a moment, giving me time to feel a hint of uncertainty settle in. It would be a mistake, to let him touch me again, to feel him inside me again. It would only blur the lines more.

  His hands moved out and grabbed the cheeks of my butt, squeezing hard as he shifted forward and his length slid up my cleft, the head rubbing against my throbbing clit. "Gonna ease you into it, darlin', but I want to fuck you hard," he told me and I felt a thrill of desire rush through my system, bringing a rush of wet between my thighs. "Sound good?"

  "Yes," I whispered.

  "Cock your knees for me baby. I want your ass up in the air." I pushed my arms up under me, pressing up. My knees went up too, bending up toward my belly slightly as I kept my torso low so my butt was where he wanted it. "Just like that," he praised and I felt a fluttering at his words. He shifted in behind me, rocking his hips so his erection teased between my folds until I was writhing for him. One of his hands rested just above my butt, the other guided him toward my entrance where he paused as he pressed in.

  I waited for it, the pain, the burning pinch that had been there before. It didn't come. There was a slight pulling sensation that made my thighs tense, but it eased as quickly as it started. "You okay?" he asked, pausing when he had just barely penetrated.

  "Don't stop," I begged, my hands gripping the sheets, my sex clenching around him.

  "Fuck, angel," he groaned, thrusting forward and filling me to the hilt. His hands moved to span my hips, holding on as he made a few gentle, tentative thrusts, easing me into it. When all he got from me was strangled moans, his fingers sunk into my hips, using them to pull me back into his body as he thrust forward.

  "Oh... my god," I groaned, pushing up onto my palms.

  One of his hands moved up my spine, his palm spreading across the back of my head, then curling his fingers in and turning. He pulled and the pain was a quick, sharp sensation that felt way too good in a way too dirty kind of way. "So tight, baby," he growled, digging into my hair again, but harder, using it to pull me backward until my hands were off the mattress, until my back was against his front. His hand released my hair, and moved to brush over my breast, then trail down my belly, until it slid between my thighs and started circling my clit. "Want your arms around me, honey," he murmured and my arms went up oddly and around the back of his neck. "Good girl," he praised, his thrusts getting faster, hitting me deep each time and the friction became an almost painful sensation.

  "Johnnie," I groaned, feeling the tightening start deep.

  "That's it baby. Squeeze my cock," he urged. His finger did another sweep of my clit and my breath got stuck in my chest as my orgasm coursed through my body, a fast, frantic pulsation around Johnnie who groaned out a curse as he thrust deep and buried, his body jerking as he came. His finger slid from my clit and moved to my inner thigh, squeezing. "Good morning angel," he said, pressing a kiss into my neck. I felt a giggle well up, wild and uncontrollable. "What?"

  " 'Good morning'?" I asked, chest shaking.

  "Best way to wake up, don't you think?"

  I felt a smile spread across my face. It was the first real, genuine smile I had felt in a long while. "I can't argue with that."

  "Honey..." he said, his voice sickly sweet.

  "I think I can make it better," I tried, needing the moment to end. If it didn't, I was pretty sure I would turn, throw my arms around him, and beg him to let me keep the moment until the end of time; to let me keep him to the end of time.

  "Gotta hear this," he said, nibbling the space right below my ear.

  "Pancakes," I announced. "You got most of the ingredients yesterday. Except the baking powder. But you, by some miracle, have a thing of baking soda in your cabinet. It will do in a pinch."

  He slid out of me, arms going around my middle for a squeeze. "You're somethin' else, honey," he said and it sounded like a compliment. "Guess I'm running out for syrup," he announced, moving toward the bathroom.

  With that, I pulled my pants and panties back up and moved on wobbly legs toward the kitchen where I started coffee for Johnnie and put on water for me. I heard the water running in the bathroom and stumbling in the bedroom for a minute before Johnnie emerged, hair wet from a quick shower and dressed in black skinny jeans, creepers, and a v-neck white tee. Simple. But, lord, he was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. He watched me for a second, head tilted to the side, something I couldn't read behind his eyes, before he moved toward me and wrapped me up, squeezing me so tight I lost my breath. He pulled back, kissing the tip of my nose. "Be right back," he announced, letting me go and moving toward the door.

  "Lock up, Amy."

  I watched the door close.

  It was too late for that, I realized. He was already in.

  That was so, so not good.

  I moved to the door anyway, locking it, before going back to the kitchen and gathering the ingredients onto the counter. I had just pulled a big bowl from the cabinet above and placed
it on the counter when the knock was at the door.

  I skipped (okay not quite skipped, but it was close) toward the door. "That was quick. What else did you get that your hands are ful..." I started, pulling open the door.

  I hadn't checked the peephole.

  Stupid, stupid move.

  Because it wasn't Johnnie and the syrup at the door.

  "Hello darling," Luis said, as usual, heavy on the 'g' and I had a sinking feeling inside, like the floor giving way beneath my feet.

  Seventeen

  Shooter

  "Honey, I'm homeeee," I drawled, pushing open the door, only mildly concerned that she hadn't locked it like I told her to. I was in too good a mood to lecture her, partly because I was getting pancakes, but mostly because, well, the woman who was making them for me.

  As I was staring at the syrup selection at the bodega around the corner, I couldn't help but agree that Dade was right; it didn't take weeks or months to figure out you wanted someone. It took me just days. In fact, it took me minutes if I was being completely honest. Having the days, that just reinforced what I already knew. I liked her. I wanted her around. And I didn't just want her around for a quick fuck when I was in the mood, though I would happily fuck her to the end of the world. I wanted her around. I wanted her in my kitchen whipping up whatever popped into her head. I wanted her on my lap when I got together with the guys. I wanted her to integrate herself with the women, to see that she could fit in. I wanted her sleeping in my bed; or tossing and turning in my bed so I had to pin her so she could finally get some rest. I wanted to peruse the fucking food store with my hand in her pocket as she tried not to look mortified.

  I wanted her.

  And it wasn't terrifying like I thought it would be, to realize I found a woman who I wanted more than sweaty nights with. It should have freaked me out, made me want to run as far as fast as I could. But it didn't. If anything, I felt a deep kind of contentment that was at once both foreign and familiar.

  I knew she would fight it, fight her feelings for me. But I also knew she was feeling what I was feeling too. Unlike me, it didn't comfort her; it scared the shit out of her. She was convinced that if she let a man stay around her long enough, he would realize she wasn't worth staying for.

  Well, I was just going to have to prove her wrong about that, wasn't I?

  The smile was still tugging at my lips as I kicked the door closed and moved toward the kitchen.

  And that was when my heart skidded to a stop inside my chest.

  Because everything was wrong.

  Her pot of water on the stove was bubbling viciously, the water already half evaporated. The flour was overturned, sticks of butter on the floor, sugar spilled everywhere.

  "Fuck!" I screamed into my empty apartment, the bag falling out of my hand as I reached for my cell, flipping off the stove before I ran out into the hall.

  "What's up, Shoot?" Breaker's voice said calmly in my ear.

  "He got her," I said, tearing down the stairs and exploding onto the street, looking frantically around.

  "Who got who?"

  "Luis got Amy," I clarified, moving down the street though I knew it was pointless. "I left for five fucking minutes and he got her."

  "Shoot are you sure she didn't..."

  "I'm fucking sure and I need you to call Lo and Wolf and fucking anyone else you can think of and get them in on this." With that, I disconnected, throwing open the door to Paine's shop, making the girls staring at a portfolio jump and yelp. "Paine!" I called, my voice hitting an edge that I didn't even recognize.

  "Shoot, the fuck are you..." he started as he came out of the back, but his face fell as he looked at me. "No..."

  "Yeah," I agreed, hands clenching and un-clenching at my sides, itching for something to do, but having nothing.

  "Out!" he barked at the women who immediately dropped the portfolio and rushed to the door. We followed, moving out onto the street. "How long?"

  "Five, ten minutes," I said, reaching for my phone as it rang.

  "Shoot," Lo's voice said in my ear. "Everyone's on it. I need details so I need you to get your head in the game."

  "I went out for syrup around the corner. Got back, went in, kitchen was a mess."

  "The door, was it broken?"

  "No she must not have locked it."

  "What about your outside door? That has a lock too."

  I hadn't even looked at it to be honest. I had no reason to on the way up. I rounded the corner of my building again. "Nothing, Lo. If it was fucked with, it was picked."

  "Okay. There's a camera at the shop next door..."

  "On it," I said, turning back and charging into the pawn shop. "Need your video footage for the camera outside," I barked at the hulk of a man behind the counter who moved to scoff at me. And, well, I didn't have time for his shit. I pulled the gun out of the waistband of my pants, cocked, and aimed. "Right fucking now," I demanded and he nodded and waved us into the back.

  "Shooter, breathe," Lo said calmly into my ear. "We're going to find her. She's going to be fine."

  "She's not like you, Lo," I said, closing my eyes as the shop owner screwed around with his computer. "Or Janie or Alex. She put on a good show, but she's not a hardass."

  "Much as I like that description of me and the girls, Shoot, I'm sure she's stronger than you think. And she's only been gone a couple of minutes."

  "Lo... it only takes a couple minutes to cause serious damage," I said, my stomach turning sour.

  "Don't go there. Not yet."

  "Right about fuckin' now, buddy," Paine said to the shop owner, his smooth voice sounding threatening.

  The shop owner hit a button and pushed his chair back so we could look. Paine reached out and rewound the footage until I saw something that made my world feel like it was falling apart. Three men moved out from behind my building, one of them being Luis who walked ahead of the others. The other two, who were unknown to me, had a struggling Amelia by the arms, her legs kicking out as they lifted her off the ground to remove her leverage to struggle away. "Fuck..."

  "Yeah," Lo agreed. "Janie just brought up the footage over here."

  "Already?" despite myself, I felt a surge of amusement at how fast they got shit done.

  "It's a pawn shop, not the CIA," Lo said. "Okay so that's Luis. The other two I don't know but Janie will ferret out who they are. Doesn't look like we got a car. Where the fuck did he park?"

  "Down the side street," I said as I watched them disappear from the camera view. "There's no cameras down there. Half of it is abandoned."

  "Getting Alex on the traffic lights. Any idea what he drove down in Alabama?"

  "Mercedes," I said automatically. "Black. New. That's all I got."

  "Narrows it down," she said, calm as ever while I felt like everything inside was splintering apart.

  "Cash, Wolf, Reign, and Repo got the call. They're on their bikes looking around. But my guts say we need to figure out where they're taking her. Too much traffic around here to find them on the streets."

  "Half of this part of town is fuckin' abandoned, sugar," I said, knowing they could be anywhere.

  "Yeah but they wouldn't know that," she said. "Not until they got here anyway and they couldn't have been here for long. Maybe ask Paine about the guys down in..."

  My head whipped in Paine's direction and he straightened. "Where do the Third Street guys get their heroin, Paine?" I asked and his eyes closed as he exhaled, his head tipping up to the ceiling for a second. "Don't want to ask it of you, man," I said, shrugging.

  Paine ran a hand down his face and nodded tightly, moving out of the back room and I followed. " 'Preciate the concern, Shoot," he said, getting back onto the street and throwing himself into his Challenger. I got into the passenger because, one, I needed something to do, and two, someone needed to be with Paine where he was going. "But it was bound to happen eventually. Couldn't expect to stay away forever."

&
nbsp; "Got yourself any guns in here?"

  "Glove," he said and I flipped it open, checking the clip, then handing it to him. One of his hands was at twelve on the wheel, the knuckles light from holding it so hard as we left the industrial part of town behind and steadily made our way into the part that made any decent person do a quick K-turn and get the fuck back out again. It wasn't even a part of town I felt all that comfortable driving around, but it was a part of town that Paine used to walk, used to help run.

  We pulled across the street from a half-dilapidated apartment building, a few guys perched on the front steps. Down the block, a few girls were standing around, fanning themselves in the heat. Didn't take much for me to know that the girls belonged to the guys. And by 'belonged' I meant worked for. By 'worked for' I meant 'turned tricks for'. Fuckin' Third Street Gang and their whores and smack. Some things never changed.

  Paine unfolded himself from his seat as I rounded the front of his car. The guys on the stoop looked at me oddly but seemed to dismiss me until Paine got onto the street, gun shining in the hand at his side. Then they were on their feet, one running inside the building, the others attempting to make themselves look bigger. It might have been years and faces may have changed 'round those parts, but everyone knew Paine. Everyone also knew that Paine was out; he was straight; he had to do some horrible shit to get that way. So him being back, well, they knew that wasn't good news.

  "New blood," Paine greeted, his voice having a kind of deadness that made a sliver of ice slide through my insides as we moved to stand on the sidewalk a few feet away from them.

  "Paine," they greeted, jerking their chins up at him.

  "Ain't here to get to know you," he said a little roughly, making me watch his profile. I knew Paine for a long time. He was friends with Breaker before I ever got the balls to run from my Pops so he was a big part of my life. And while Breaker knew him when he was still involved with Third Street, I didn't have much to do with him at the time. I didn't see this side of him. I didn't see the coldness. I didn't get the sensation of heartlessness, because that was so far from the Paine I knew and loved that it was hard to reconcile that they were even the same person. But there was Paine standing next to me with dead eyes and a tone that was reserved for the scariest kinds of criminals. "Made it pretty clear I don't give a fuck 'bout this operation anymore when I fought my way out."