by Eden Winters
Not the ones who mattered.
“My wife loves her flower garden. Sometimes when a plant withers she digs up the roots and plants a new bulb to keep her garden healthy.” Walter shrugged. “While I regret losing any member of the team, they made their own choices.”
Lucky bolted upright in the chair. “How can you be so casual? Phillip nearly killed you!” Five minutes. Lucky’s fist. Phillip’s face.
“He didn’t succeed, thankfully, and worrying over what might have been is a waste of valuable time.”
And one of the things Lucky did best. He’d never be so calm about someone who’d tried to poison him.
“I’m not sure he actually meant to kill me,” Walter continued. “Merely get me out of the way temporarily.”
Regardless of what the shithead had planned, Walter nearly made the SNB memorial page. Someone had to pay for that. “What about O’Donoghue?”
“He’ll stay on, assisting me until such a time as I’m ready to turn over control and finally retire. Then he’ll support my replacement until his own retirement.”
Unlike the last time they’d discussed retirement, this time Walter didn’t flinch when discussing handing over the reins he’d held for the better part of the organization’s life. His eyes twinkled. “Don’t worry. I’ll always be around if you need me. Lucy and I are becoming quite attached to your nephews.”
He engaged business mode again. “We’ve had several good candidates from other divisions offer to transfer, and when we return to work, I’m afraid you’ll be extremely busy with a new crop of recruits.”
Somebody kill Lucky now. “What’ll I do during those two weeks? Need me to come in?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Walter’s lips quivered before he lost the battle not to snicker. “I do believe there are some family matters that could use your attention, such as the sister I’ve heard rumors of relocating here, and the nephews you’re caring for.” He folded his hands together on the desk. “Take the time off. You deserve it.”
“What about…” Lucky hated to invoke the name, like the devil himself might suddenly appear. “Victor.”
“Senior Special Agent Mangiardi had nothing but praise for you in his reports, and he’s returning to Nice, I’m told, where his team will compile the evidence to make their case against Forsyth, Landry, and Eustace. I’m sorry about what happened to Rogers. He’d shown a lot of promise in surveillance work.”
“How do you suppose Landry got them to follow him?”
Walter winced. “By convincing them Jameson O’Donoghue gave the orders, according to Eustace.”
“Any more word on Owen Landry?”
“He’s made the DEA’s most wanted list. I’ve no doubt he’ll soon be brought to justice. Keith’s tracker led to a car parked in an airport parking lot.”
Good work, Keith! Not that Lucky would utter those words aloud.
Lucky let out a yawn. “I guess my work here is done.” Not really, but the sooner he got out of here, the sooner he could start hunting Landry.
“For now.” Walter gave Lucky a nod. “Go. I’m sure you have lots to do.”
***
Jameson O’Donoghue disengaged from the wall when Lucky exited Walter’s office.
What now?
“Harrison, can I talk to you for a moment?” He didn’t wait for an answer and trudged down the hall to his borrowed office.
Might as well get this over with. Lucky followed and dropped down into a chair in front of the desk without being invited. “What?”
O’Donoghue sighed and sat on the edge of the desk. “I never much liked the taste of crow.”
“Huh?” Chew and swallow, and don’t even think about spitting out the feathers, asshat. You earned portions several times over. Let’s see how well you recognize it.
“I’m not good at apologizing. Instead, I try to live my life so I don’t do things I need to apologize for.” O’Donoghue swung his legs, shoe heels tapping against the desk. “I let my personal beliefs color my opinion, with disastrous results.”
Lucky cocked his head to the side. “I’m not following you.” Squirming won’t get you out of this.
O’Donoghue hoisted himself off the desk and strode across the room to stare out the window over the city of Atlanta. “I’ve been in law enforcement for one hell of a lot of years, seen all kinds of people. More often than not, once a man goes bad, he never completely mends his ways. I didn’t trust you.”
Lucky snorted. “Yeah, and look who you did trust.”
O’Donoghue turned around in time for Lucky to catch his grimace. “I deserved that. Now, I take the blame for much of this mess. If I’d trusted you, if you’d trusted me, we could have found and corrected the problem within our ranks without so much damage.”
“Every man you brought with you went bad,” Lucky pointed out, in case the fact eluded the DEA man.
“Not really. Rogers and Eustace are followers, not leaders, though they too have their place in the world. I underestimated Landry. He gave orders, such as keeping tabs on you. Even he was smart enough to know you were the biggest threat to his plans.”
“Bullshit! You don’t doctor the boss’s coffee cup or steal files from him without being a bad’un. And not speaking out after even if you thought it was going to be a prank? Phillip was in this up to his eyeballs, and Rogers wouldn’t have made a suicide run if he was a good guy led astray.”
O’Donoghue shrank back. “I swear, I didn’t know!”
“You expect me to believe that? Especially after you chewed my ass every time they fed you shit about me they’d gotten by tailing me or bugging my friends?” My friends. Yes, Loretta Johnson was his friend. He should have trusted her.
“You’re right. I should have known something was up, and if I wasn’t so ready to believe the worst of you, I’d have asked more questions. They were telling me what I wanted to hear, and I shouldn’t have been so happy to hear it. I’m sorry.”
Grovel, baby, grovel. “You’re not sorry, You’re pitiful.”
The schoolyard snark got out before Lucky remembered he might want to temper his reaction. Hell with it. O’Donoghue’d just gotten the most honest job review of his life.
O’Donoghue flinched but didn’t reply in kind. “I don’t expect you to believe anything of me. I suspect I’ve ruined any hopes of you and I ever sharing a good working relationship.”
“Every man you brought with you went bad,” Lucky repeated. If he spoke slowly and clearly, the fucktard would hear If your mouth is moving, you’re lying.
Didn’t keep him from talking though. “I hope you’ll at least let me do my job and assist Walter’s replacement.”
Like he’d done such a fine job so far. “What about all the fraternization bullshit?”
“Mr. Smith… talked to me about that.” O’Donoghue gave the ghost of a smile. “You have powerful friends. I should’ve known a man like Walter wouldn’t give trust lightly.”
“No, he wouldn’t.” Lucky’d spent more years than he wanted to admit proving himself worthy of Walter’s trust. Maybe Victor had gotten that particular ball rolling, but Walter would have shut him down regardless if Lucky hadn’t lived up to the faith Victor mistakenly placed in him.
“I’ve come to admire your unparalleled loyalty,” O’Donoghue said, voice soft.
What the fuck?
O’Donoghue stuck out his hand. “I’m asking your forgiveness for my arrogance and the harsh judgement you didn’t deserve.”
The DEA agent who wouldn’t go away sure could look sincere when he wanted to. Lucky’d stopped believing in coincidences the second time his fourteen-year-old self lost all his cash to a three-card monte slicker.
Lucky took the man’s hand, briefly, and gave a shark smile he’d probably learned from Victor. “You screw me or Bo over and they’ll never find your body.” Now that was sincerity: O’Donoghue should take notes, plus wonder if a tobacco farmer’s son knew how fast the wild hogs would take care of the e
vidence.
O’Donoghue pulled back like he knew how fast his hand would get chewed off. “You’d have to beat Mangiardi to me. He’s already sworn the same.”
***
Bo barely paused long enough to banish the dog and cat to the back yard and shoved Lucky roughly against the wall, pressing them body to body. He clasped Lucky’s wrists, pinning his arms beside his head, and descended for kisses bordering on violent.
“Ty?” Lucky managed enough wits to ask.
“At Mrs. Griggs’.”
Oh, right. “In that case. Carry on.”
With a low growl, Bo released his grasp and yanked Lucky’s T-shirt over his head.
Before he could react, Bo was on him again, arms and mouth everywhere, attacking with an unseen before ferocity.
Where had this come from? Running his hands over Lucky’s chest and tweaking both nipples, Bo latched his mouth onto Lucky’s neck.
There’d be marks come morning, but Lucky didn’t care.
Inside his jeans, his cramped cock ached for release. He rubbed against Bo’s thigh, anything for some friction.
Clamping both hands onto Lucky’s shoulders, Bo pushed, knocking Lucky to the couch. The Hell Bitch’s cousin slammed open, nearly throwing Lucky to the floor.
He found himself there anyway a moment later, one foot aloft as Bo yanked off, first one shoe, then the other. They hit the wall with heavy thunks.
Lucky liked when Bo got aggressive, but hurricanes didn’t have this much power.
Bo undid Lucky’s jeans, grabbed the legs, and jerked, sending the denim flying. At least he took a bit more care with Lucky’s boxers, else he might have ripped Lucky’s cock off along with the material.
With a pounce to do the cat proud, Bo dropped to his knees, shoved Lucky’s legs apart, and dropped between. With absolutely no finesse, he took Lucky into his mouth, sinking down to the root.
Oh, hot damn! Lucky combed his fingers into the dark waves of Bo’s hair, bucking up and hanging on for dear life.
Now, this was a blowjob!
But… This shouldn’t be all one way. Lucky surged up, grasping Bo by the shoulders and urging him onto the floor, snatching a pillow off the couch at the last moment and shoving it under Bo’s head.
He dug his fingers into the front of Bo’s shirt and wrenched the fabric open, sending buttons pinging off the walls and floor.
Two could play the destroying shirts game.
Skin. Lots and lots of glorious skin, a smattering of hair, and two nipples pebbling nicely under Lucky’s tongue and teeth.
He licked and sucked his way across Bo’s pecs, up and up to his neck, wrenching a moan out of his lover. God, how he loved this man. Would do anything for this man.
He moved aside the hummingbird charm hanging from a chain around Bo’s neck when the spirit animal totem got in the way.
Bo’s loafers came off much easier than Lucky’s tennis shoes, and the material of his slacks slithered when Lucky removed them and tossed them to the floor.
Bo wore nothing underneath. Hot. Damn.
Lucky descended, swiping away a drop of pre-cum from the slit of Bo’s cock, then sank down on the shaft, moaning at the scent, the feel, the fullness against his lips.
He pulled off and dropped lower, taking Bo’s balls into his mouth, first one, then the other.
Bo groaned and lifted his hips, digging his fingertips into Lucky’s scalp.
He could suck Bo forever, loving the way one look at his partner sent fire coursing through his veins. What had he ever done before they met? How had he survived?
Running his hands up Bo’s thighs, Lucky worshipped Bo’s perfect cock with his mouth, earning panted breaths and small whimpers. How good they were together, how right.
His world upended and he once more found himself staring into dark eyes full of hunger and lust.
He neither knew nor cared where Bo got the lube, only opened for Bo’s touch, the passion hot enough to sizzle while Bo prepared him for something larger than his fingers.
Letting his legs fall open, Lucky hissed in a breath when Bo breached him, then wrapped his arms around a strong back and his legs around muscular thighs.
He visualized the way Bo’s bubble butt must look, flexing as he drove into and out of Lucky.
So fucking good. Bo filled him perfectly, hitting all the right spots and pounding with an intensity just shy of pain.
Bo in control, taking what he wanted, giving Lucky what he needed.
Thoughts lurked in the back of Lucky’s mind: Bo staking his claim with Lucky’s old lover in town.
Bo needn’t worry. No one could come close to him—oh, dear lord! Right there. Right… there!
He had Lucky, now and forever, mind, body, soul, and… Oh, God! Lucky closed his eyes, face going slack under the onslaught of pleasure.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” Bo growled, more statement than question.
“Yes.” Lucky tightened his hold, ramming his hips up to meet Bo’s strokes. “And you’re mine.”
“Only yours,” Bo ground out on a harsh breath.
“Mine to kiss, mine to love, mine to fuck.” Lucky hovered on the edge, ready to plunge off the cliff.
“Oh, yeah. Yours. And you’re mine to fuck, only mine, no one else’s.” Bo’s rhythm faltered, his breathing erratic. “I’m gonna, I’m gonna…” He threw back his head, eyes closed, muscles tense.
Lucky tightened around him, urging him to move faster, harder. “I’m close.”
He reached between them, grabbed his bobbing cock, and pumped furiously. Oh, damn! Oh, damn! “Ahhhh!” Lucky bowed up, shooting jets of come onto his belly while Bo’s filled him.
Bo swooped down, sealing their mouths together. He invaded, nothing tender in the way he plundered Lucky’s mouth with his tongue. They stayed joined, Bo murmuring, “Love you. Love you so much,” against Lucky’s lips.
If all this was to reassure himself of his place in Lucky’s life, he needn’t have bothered. Lucky had all he wanted, all he needed, in Bo.
Bo stared down at him, brown eyes dark.
Lucky swept back a lock of Bo’s hair with his fingertip, to better see Bo’s eyes. “I love you. I always will.”
Bo finally softened, slipped free of Lucky’s body, and squirmed into position, head on Lucky’s chest. “Even though Victor’s back?”
How could Lucky answer? He lifted Bo’s chin until their eyes met so Bo could see the truth there. “Victor who?”
Chapter Twenty-seven
“I’ll go with you if you want me to.” Bo wrapped his arms around Lucky from behind and planted a kiss on his ear.
Lucky stood at the front door, hand on the doorknob. “I know, but I think I need to do this myself.”
He took Bo’s lack of a reply as agreement. Yes, he needed to do this alone. He’d created the problem, he’d figure out an answer.
With another kiss from Bo, Lucky steeled his resolve and marched out to meet his fate.
The drive across town gave him way too much time to think.
He’d dropped Ty off with his former landlady, a woman Ty barely knew, and left, not really explaining why. Not that he could.
All his life he’d been keeping secrets from his nearest and dearest.
Safer for them that way. Or was it? He’d certainly like to know of any potential threats, but he could only share so much information about his job.
His body ached from getting tossed around in what little remained of Bo’s Durango. Bo might forgive him for the loss of the vehicle one day, after a few million blowjobs and twice as many turns doing dishes.
Getting roughed up in the truck, having a gun pulled on him—again—and having to confront his former lover paled in comparison with what might be waiting ahead.
His nephew’s disapproval.
Lucky pulled up to the curb in front of the duplex he used to call home, him renting one half and Mrs. Griggs living in the other.
He could get out, but then she’d wan
t to introduce him to every single cat by name, and he needed to get Ty home to do homework. After being ditched with a woman who took cat lady to new heights, the kid might not speak to him again.
Mrs. Griggs sat on her porch swing. Instead of her usual bathrobe, she wore a flowery dress. Must be putting on airs because of her guest. The whole time Lucky had lived next door she’d seemingly lived in bathrobes. She waved. Lucky waved back.
Ty sat down the lapful of orange tabby he held, picked up his backpack and the gym bag he’d borrowed from Bo, and slumped down the sidewalk. He opened the car door, threw up his hand to the woman on the porch, and shoved his bags into the back seat.
He still waved when they rounded the corner away from the house. Maybe staying with Mrs. Griggs hadn’t been so bad after all.
Not a word. Not one single word. How mad was the kid?
After a mile of nerve-wracking silence, Lucky ventured, “I’m sorry you had to stay with someone you barely knew.”
Abuse starting in three, two one… Three, two, one…
After a small eternity, Ty spoke up. “She’s not bad. I like all her cats. She told me you got Cat Lucky from her.”
No anger? No accusations? “Yeah, he came over to the house one day and wouldn’t leave.”
Voice whisper-quiet, Ty asked, “Is it true he adopted you after a little girl died?”
Telling his nephew all about the sad parts of his job wasn’t in the cards. Then again, lying wasn’t either. “Yes.” Without quite knowing why, Lucky opened his mouth and out fell the story. “Bo and me were investigating a children’s hospital that brought in shady drugs.” And fell victim to gray market opportunists, but the entire incident might take too much time to tell. “She told me she had a tuxedo cat named Lucky.” If he closed his eyes, he could see the little girl again, her bright smile, her bald head. His heart clenched.
“She died because of those drugs, didn’t she?”
“Yes.” Lucky’s voice came out choked.
“You caught who killed her, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Even though Lucky’d had to quit the SNB to do so. Or rather, he would have quit if Walter had let him instead of pretending he didn’t get Lucky’s resignation letter.