Girls With Guns

by Ali Vali

  Epilogue

  “You were lucky today.” Bel poured two glasses of champagne to kick off the celebration. Until the judge handed down his sentence, she hadn’t been convinced Esther would be a free woman.

  “Luck had nothing to do with it.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “It was justice. A vindictive asshole put me through hell and tried to kill me. He’d have shot us both, you know that. The fact that I lost my shit and ensured he’d never walk properly again doesn’t change that.” Esther grinned.

  Bel’s sense of right and wrong wavered, but only a little. “You shot an unarmed man.”

  “I disagree. He had been armed. He was just stupid enough to put down his weapon.”

  Bel and Esther had bounced this conversation around for nearly a year, and on every occasion they agreed to disagree, until now. Now Bel had to concede that Esther was right. She’d been found not guilty of grievous bodily harm on the grounds of self-defence, and although the judge was never able to voice his opinion, Bel had heard that he’d implied in chambers that justice would not be served by incarcerating the victim of such a heinous crime.

  The result was certainly worth celebrating.

  “Come and celebrate over here,” said Esther.

  Bel looked into the lounge room and smiled. Esther sat seductively on the couch, a cheeky grin creasing her face. For the first time in a year, she looked relaxed, almost content. It had been a long and exhausting road for them both. Esther had conceded to seeking help with the ordeal, but naturally, it had uncovered deep wounds from her childhood. With Bel’s support, they were slowly working to heal the past.

  Although Bel was cleared of any wrongdoing for her part in what happened to Conrad Rush, she resigned from MI5 against all protests from her superiors. In the end it had been an easy decision. One day after all the fuss had died down, Charlie, still sporting a yellowish shadow around her eyes after the beating from Conrad Rush, had showed up on her doorstep. Three hours and a bottle of brandy later, Salt and Reilly Protection and Investigations was conceived. Their first client was a wealthy MP left in a precarious position, through no fault of his own, due to foreign policy and tough decisions regarding corrupt activity in the Middle East. Salt and Reilly worked with his government-agency protection team to offer that extra level of security. As far as first gigs went, it was a lucrative contract that would lead to many more.

  Bel stood before Esther and held aloft her champagne. “Here’s to us.”

  “Here’s to you taking your clothes off.”

  “Why, Miss Banks, how very forward of you.”

  “It’s been a long time.”

  It had been a very long time. Bel had given Esther all the space she’d needed, and for the past seven months that included space in the bedroom. Bel flushed at the thought of how much she wanted Esther.

  “Have you forgotten what to do?” asked Esther.

  “Surely it’s just like riding a bike.”

  “Are you implying I’m like a push bike?” Esther hooked a finger over the top of Bel’s jeans and pulled her nearer.

  “Not at all, but I’ve memorised every inch of you. There’s no way I’d forget what to do.”

  Esther slowly unbuttoned Bel’s jeans.

  “I’ve missed your body.” Esther pushed the jeans to the floor, revealing black lace pants. She raised her eyebrows. “These aren’t usually your style.”

  “I’m trying a new look.”

  “All posh now you’re minding an MP.” Esther pushed the pants in the same direction as the jeans.

  Bel’s heart raced in anticipation. “I wear Armani now, what can I say?” She’d been naked with Esther on dozens of occasions since they stopped having sex, but all of those moments were nothing like now. The moisture between her legs was just the physical sign of how she was feeling inside. Inside she was on fire, and she knew exactly how to put out the flames.

  “Step out of them, please.”

  Bel complied.

  Esther ran the back of her index finger from under the bottom of Bel’s shirt to her clit. “Open your legs, please.”

  Bel squirmed and the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. When Esther pushed her fingers toward Bel’s opening, her legs weakened, and the champagne instantly caused her to become giddy. “God, I need you.”

  “I’m sorry it’s been a while.”

  Esther massaged her clit with her thumb.

  “I would have waited longer. Much longer.”

  Esther pulled her hand away. “I can make you wait all night if that’s what you’d like.”

  Bel was quick to grab her wrist. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  Esther smiled. It was one of those million-dollar smiles, and it melted Bel to the very core. She shuffled forward, encouraging Esther’s hand to explore farther. Bel couldn’t remember physically wanting anyone as much as she wanted Esther now. Without invitation, she straddled Esther’s lap and slid a hand around the back of her neck. They kissed deeply and intensely. For a moment, Bel could have sworn they became one being, one entity, and the only thing that drew her away from the sensation was the feeling of Esther’s fingers dancing around her opening.

  “Please.” It was the only word Bel could mutter and, apparently, the only word Esther needed to hear.

  In one smooth movement, Esther pushed two fingers inside Bel.

  So powerful was the sensation, Bel broke their kiss and grasped Esther firmly as she began to rock up and down. Esther found her G-spot immediately, and although Bel knew she would come quickly, she wasn’t prepared to ask Esther to stop or slow down. She reached the edge of orgasm in no time.

  “I’ve missed you,” said Bel.

  Esther added a third finger. “I’m sorry I went missing for so long.”

  Bel shook her head, although Esther couldn’t have seen her. “Just promise when you go, you’ll always come back to me.”

  “I promise. Right now we have all night, so you don’t need to hold back. Come for me, Bel. Come for me now.”

  Bel released immediately. She closed her eyes so tightly, she feared her head might explode. She felt the most satisfying and warm sensation between her legs.

  Esther pulsed her fingers gently inside. It was exactly what Bel liked after her first orgasm.

  “Welcome back, baby,” said Bel.

  Esther’s fingers gained momentum. “It’s good to be back.”

  Hell Fire

  Ali Vali

  Chapter One

  “Abbott, get your ass in here,” Captain Brock Howard yelled as he stood in the doorway of his office. The Bronx precinct station had been freezing since their shift change that morning, when the boiler blew up, making so much racket everyone carrying had drawn their weapons.

  Detective Finley Abbott glanced up from her computer screen and flipped her middle finger at her pseudo partner Roberta Schumer when she let out a long “ooh.”

  “What the hell did you do now?” Roberta asked.

  “I’ll tell you after I recover from the shock that Howard actually knows my name,” Finley said. The captain had never talked to her directly. “Do you think he’s finally realized he’s got a computer sitting on his desk and it’s not really a paperweight slash sticky-note holder?”

  Finley pushed her bangs back, cursing her mother lovingly for giving her the straightest blackest hair known to man. It was impossible to style and grew faster than she could keep up with. At least she’d inherited her family’s height.

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath, and the vein in his forehead’s bulging, so move it,” Roberta said.

  When Howard opened his mouth as if to scream again, Finley walked into his office. “Yes, sir.”

  “Sit,” he said, as if she were a cocker spaniel, and pointed to the only empty chair except his. “You and your pal out there find anything yet?”

  “Not yet. The traffic we’ve been following is coming out of this area, but they’re bouncing all over the
globe, and the transmission cuts out before we can figure out who they’re communicating with.”

  Howard nodded but appeared confused. “I heard ‘not yet,’ then blah blah blah.”

  Finley laughed and was glad Howard joined in. “Think of when you were a kid and played with two tin cans and a long string. It was easy to trace who you were talking to and where they were. These guys start here and the string goes to London, Moscow, China, but before it gets to the end, someone cuts the string.”

  “That I can understand,” Howard said as he leaned back so far Finley was afraid he’d land on his head when the chair snapped. “So I take it you and your sidekick aren’t going anywhere anytime soon?”

  “I promise we’ll be out of here as soon as we’ve got something.”

  He waved her off. “I’m not rushing you, but why you’re working from here still rubs me the wrong way.”

  “I don’t blame you, and I’m trying my best to clear up that first trace. There can be two reasons it originated from here and why it hasn’t happened since.” She didn’t like talking about ongoing investigations, but she had to keep Howard happy so she wouldn’t blow her cover. The agency had vetted him enough for her to trust him a little, but Howard also thought the police commissioner had sent her and Roberta. “Either it was run through your system as a joke, or someone out there isn’t happy with the pension they’re working toward.”

  “What’s your take?”

  “Whoever it is,” she glanced out to see if anyone was overly interested in their conversation, “is smart, and you’ve got plenty of smart people out there.”

  “So they’re out there?”

  “Smart people are also sitting in dark rooms moving girls all over the country with a few keystrokes.” An old-appearing picture of two girls in shorts and bright-colored blouses on Howard’s credenza was starting to yellow and fade. “If those are your girls you should understand the importance of why I’m here, and you’ll be happy to know I’m persistent.”

  “They sent me your record so I believe you, but it still pisses me off that someone under your command might be leaking our advantage to the scum on the streets. It’s not like we have that much of an edge, you know.”

  She nodded and understood his frustration, but she also understood Howard might be full of shit. That’s why she was willing to share only so much. At times police work included some give-and-take, but you never gave away more than you got from the scum, as Howard had said. “If that’s the case here, believe me, I’ll weed them out for you. And neither the DA nor the feds will cut them any slack.”

  “Don’t kid yourself, Abbott. The feds cut more deals than the DA’s office even considers. No one wants bad press smearing the police department.” Howard stood and hiked his pants up, most likely to signal their meeting was over. “Let me know if I can do anything to clear the way for you.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She closed his door and signaled to Roberta that she was heading out.

  She’d finished here for the day, but she still had to report her total lack of progress to her real boss, FBI Special Agent Russell Welsh. Russell had recruited her six months before she’d graduated from LSU in Baton Rouge, after she’d hacked into the secure servers of two major banks. She hadn’t stolen anything; she’d done it simply to prove to herself she could. Russell and his team, as well as the bank, had been pissed that after all their investigations they couldn’t prove it was her.

  Though she’d worked for him over three years, he still asked on occasion how she’d done it, but she was never in a sharing mood since she technically could still be charged with the crime. Not that she thought Russell would do that, but she wasn’t the gambling type. In reality she was more the nerdy, introverted type who enjoyed her job more than probably ninety-nine percent of the world’s population.

  The Bronx job was her first undercover assignment, and it certainly was different than sitting in an office all day monitoring six computer screens to find perverts who trolled chat sites for unsuspecting twelve-year-olds. She wished she could believe that the level of some people’s depravity surprised her, but she’d crossed that scummy bridge a long time before. When pretending to be a young boy, she interacted only about twice with the creeps before they dropped their pants to show her their idea of candy.

  “Let the inquisition begin,” she said to herself when she got on the subway headed uptown after she triple-checked that no one had followed her.

  *

  “Mama, can we go in there?” six-year-old Victoria Eaton asked, pointing to the M&M store in Times Square. The colorful window displays, along with the large digital monitors, made Victoria want to stop and stare every time they passed the place.

  “We can, but not right now, okay?” Abigail Eaton said as she settled her three-year-old son on her hip. He was heavy, but carrying him was better than keeping track of him and her two girls in this crowd. “Remember, we’re meeting your grandparents for lunch, so after that we’ll go again.”

  Abigail’s eight-year-old daughter said, “Why can’t we go somewhere else? We’ve been in the M&M store like a gazillion times already,” her tone quickly becoming whiny. The girls were two years apart, but to the older girl, Victoria was the definition of an annoying evil spawn.

  “We’ve got two more days, so after we visit the candy store for the gazillion and first time, we’ll go wherever you want to,” Abigail said, not wanting any meltdowns before they reached the restaurant her in-laws had picked. With any luck it’d be more casual than the last place, where everyone had glared at them the entire time because her children had the audacity to act like children.

  This was the second year Abigail had made this trip alone since her longtime partner Nicola Eaton and her brother Frederick had died. Their private plane had gone down somewhere over the Atlantic, leaving her alone with three children.

  Her in-laws’ only remaining link to Nicola and Frederick were the three children she and Nicola had brought into the world, with Frederick’s help. Her kids were now the heirs to the considerable Eaton estate, so this yearly trip wasn’t necessarily voluntary. The Eatons wanted her to visit them in the city so they could introduce their grandchildren to the culture only available in New York. In fact, Nicola had stayed in New Orleans solely because of business, but had warned Abigail that eventually she and the children would have to move to New York to be near her parents.

  Because Abigail was close to her parents and extended family, she didn’t want to leave New Orleans. Her parents weren’t jetsetters, but they loved her kids. Nicola’s death had not only saved Abigail from that decision, but also from having to end a relationship that wasn’t working for either her or Nicola. When Abigail had chosen to stay home with the kids, Nicola’s opinion of her had plummeted, since her mother had worked until the day she went into labor and was back at her desk two weeks later. Abigail had pointed out that Nicola and Frederick knew their nanny better than their parents, but that hadn’t gone over well.

  That argument seemed like it had happened a decade before, but unfortunately it had occurred only a few days before the Eatons’ chartered plane had vanished. Abigail had lost more than one night of sleep because of guilt, but they’d had so much more bad than good for so long, one big blowup really hadn’t made things worse. They’d already been at the end; she’d just never imagined it’d be Nicola’s death that ended their relationship permanently.

  “Where we going, Mama?” Victoria asked as they crossed another street with what seemed like a sea of humanity. Abigail regretted not taking a cab, as her son’s weight was making the small of her back ache, but they were too close now to try to hail one.

  “A place called Sarabeth’s,” she said, smiling at the way her eight-year-old, Sadie, kept a tight grip on her sister despite their constant battles.

  “Can I get peanut butter?” Victoria asked, swinging her free hand back and forth.

  “We’ll ask first thing.”

  They finally reached the st
reet that bordered Central Park and took a right, like her phone’s GPS instructed, at Central Park South. The restaurant wasn’t that much farther, and she looked forward to putting her son down more than getting anything to eat.

  “Mom, look,” Sadie said as she pulled both her and Victoria to a sudden stop, surprising Abigail with her show of strength.

  She’d seen numerous limo buses on their walks, so it wasn’t until Sadie pointed to the one stopped in traffic less than fifty feet from them that Abigail noticed it. This one definitely stood out since four men with what appeared to be small machine guns were surrounding the vehicle. She barely had time to register what was going on before gunfire that went on for what seemed like forever shattered the winter day.

  Abigail tightened her hold on Sadie’s hand and clutched her son to her chest, then ran in the opposite direction, praying the entire time that both her daughters could keep up. If these guys decided not to leave witnesses, they were in deep trouble. After they rounded the corner she slowed down and tried to calm her breathing so she could deal with her three hysterical children. “Are you okay?” she asked both girls. They were still crying but appeared unharmed.

  “What was that?” Sadie asked as she hugged Victoria.

  “Probably a movie or television show, so it’s nothing to worry about.” She was lying but saw no sense in jacking up the hysteria. Sirens were blaring from what sounded like every direction, and all she could think to do was get out of there.

  After four taxis passed them by, they started the walk back to their hotel. The Eatons would have to understand them canceling. She was prepared to tell them just that when her phone rang and her mother-in-law Valerie’s name appeared on it. However, Valerie did most of the talking.

  “Abigail, sorry to call so late, but David and I have to cancel today and everything else we had planned. You need to catch a flight home as soon as you can, and we’ll see you next month for our regular visit.”