by Nancy Gideon
"Oh, my," Amber whispered as if afraid of waking the residents. "Who lives here?"
"You do, for as long as you like."
Amber stared up at him, agog, but Evie had no hesitation, racing down the adjacent hall, shouting back, "Mama, it has two bedrooms!"
He was grinning after her when Amber's hands palmed his face, drawing him down for a soft kiss. Voice almost too quiet for him to hear, she whispered, "I love you."
Three words that skidded his heart to a halt then kicked it into high gear.
Before he could respond, Evie raced by them, heading for the floor-length drapes on the far wall. She pulled them aside and gave a happy little cry, unlatching the folding glass doors that opened onto a balcony.
From the rail, she called back, "Come see! You've got to see this!"
Arm in arm, Rico and Amber joined her on the wide private space that overlooked the river. Darkness was broken by a dazzle of lights from the distant bridge spanning the Mississippi and by points of life winking awake along its shores.
"I feel just like a princess in a fairytale castle!"
Evie's sigh had Amber and Rico sharing smiles over the top of her rumpled blonde hair, until a knock announcing their belongs had Rico returning inside.
"Can we really stay here, Mama?" A hopeful stare lifted.
"That's what Rico said. Do you like it?"
"Are you kidding? I love it! Did you see the kitchen?" Her voice lowered into an awed whisper. "There’s a dishwasher!"
"Hey," Rico called from inside. "You want to tell these guys where to put your stuff?"
It took minutes to store their meager belongings within the bedrooms' cavernous closets while Rico thanked Savoie's men for their assistance. One of them replied, "Our pleasure, Mr. Terriot. Can we drop you someplace?"
"No." That from Amber as she rejoined them in the entryway. "He'll be staying. Thank you."
Too professional to betray any reaction, the men nodded and withdrew.
Alone together, Rico raised a brow. "I'm staying?"
Expression clouding with sudden doubts, she asked, "Don't you want to?"
"Of course, I want to. I just didn't want to assume."
Her hand touched his chest. "Please stay."
"So, you're not mad."
"Mad?"
"At me for making decisions for the both of you. I know you told me to stay out of it, but—"
"Thank you, Rico. Thank you for stepping in. You have no idea how good it feels to just once follow instead having to lead. Thank you."
She leaned and his arms went about her, holding her close.
"But next time," she added, "check with me first before you uproot our lives in the middle of the night, okay?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Rico, come see my room!" Evie shouted, forcing them apart. He stroked Amber's cheek with his fingertips then started down the hall.
For a moment, she simply enjoyed watching him walk away, the mile-wide shoulders, long, tapered build, the ambling, street-wise strut and dancers grace, knowing he wasn't going far. Then Amber took a moment to look about the beautiful surroundings through the eyes of ownership. Clean, crisply elegant yet with a sense comfort that embraced her. No matter how temporary, for the time being this place, like that man, were hers.
"Mom, come see!"
Blinking away the tears welling at the thought of Evie in the kitchen and Rico on the couch . . . and of him in that huge king bed with her, Amber smiled as she followed the noise of conversation to the first open door on the left. A wonderful space with a full-size bed set in a gun-metal grey iron frame and a fluffy pale blue comforter folded across its end. A built-in desk already holding her school materials, dresser and bookshelves with a niche for the TV filled one wall, and windows above a long, cushioned bench lined the other. A walk-in closet next to the bed housed the new clothes Rico had bought for her along with her other well-worn favorites.
A grinning Evie stood in the middle of it all, leaning back into the curve of Rico's arms. He grinned, too, his eyes as suspiciously shiny as her own.
"Isn't it awesome?" her daughter proclaimed.
Looking at the two of them together, Amber could only nod.
"Hey," Rico said, nudging the girl to elicit a giggle, "you need a couple more hours of sleep. How 'bout trying that new bed on for size?"
"Will you be here when I get up?"
"Sure. Get changed, and we'll tuck you in."
Again, Amber’s eyes filled with wobbly dampness.
Giving her privacy, they closed the door behind them. Amber grabbed his hand and tugged Rico into the other bedroom, where a big California-king dominated the black, white and grey color scheme. Her arms wound about his neck, dragging him down for her juicy kiss. He lingered happily, teasing with his tongue and sucking at her lips.
"So, everything's okay?"
"Very okay," she breathed against his mouth.
"There's tons of security. Evie can keep up with her school work privately. No one has access to this floor but us and Savoie, and a few of his people. There's everything you need in the shops downstairs. You never have to set foot outside again unless you want to."
"What about work?"
"LaRoche will tell everyone you had a family emergency out of town and he's not sure when you'll be back. Max said he grumbled some about that, but Miz MacCreedy is filling in for you. Susanna will drop off Evie's school work, and she can tune in to class via closed circuit in her room. No one will know where you are."
"For how long?"
"However long it takes." When she frowned at that tightly spoken fact, he softened it with a kiss and a quiet, "Until you feel safe."
"Will you stay here with us?"
He hesitated. "What will Evie think?"
"That she's the luckiest girl on the planet."
"And what will you think?"
"That I'm the luckiest girl's mom."
Not quite the gushing affirmation he was looking for. "I'm not sure how good a roommate I'll be. Do I take the couch?"
Her stare was unwavering. "No."
His brow hitched upward. "And what will Evie think about that?"
"That I took long enough for me to invite you."
He blinked in surprise then grinned wide. "You naughty girls."
"I thought you liked naughty girls."
"No. Not all of them. Just my two girls."
A loud throat clearing at the door brought them apart.
"Kid present," Evangeline announced, a bit after the fact.
"Thanks for the head's up," he drawled. "Back to bed, kiddo. The kitchen will still be there when you wake up." To Amber, he murmured, "I got this. Why don't you go ahead with whatever girly stuff you need to do?"
She sniffed at that term but gave him a freeing push away.
With Evie under the covers and already heavy-lidded, Rico bent to kiss her brow and found her arm squeezing about his neck.
"Thanks for being here, Rico," she whispered, voice catching. “Is everything okay now?”
"Thanks for wanting me here, Angel." A first time for everything. Being wanted. "Everything’s fine. Go to sleep."
* * * * *
The light was off in the master bedroom, the only illumination sifting in through sheer drapes.
"Lock the door."
The husky voice came from that big bed. Rico turned the latch.
"Come here."
"What about Evie?"
"She knows the meaning of a locked door. Do not disturb."
"Oh?"
"For those times I didn't want to be disturbed . . . when I was thinking about you."
"Oh!" He levered out of his boots and shucked off his shirt and pants, leaving them where they fell. "That's still something I'd like to watch."
"Tonight, I'd rather have you participate."
"No problem."
The covers lifted and he slid between deliciously silky sheets and, just as smoothly, between deliciously silky thighs. Teasing for a moment, rubbing, penetrat
ing with shallow little thrusts while her fingers clutched and kneaded his ass. She raised her hips to take him fully inside, encouraging a slow, seeking rhythm.
“Frederick.”
“Ummm?”
“Kiss me like I’m not somebody’s mom.”
Chapter 20
“Today, we’re talking close quarter combat and that critical second you might have to save your own life. I need a volunteer.” The blade Rico twirled agilely between his fingers stopped, deadly point taking aim. “Thanks for volunteering. Step on up here. Don’t be shy,” he goaded when Auguste hesitated.
He gave the knife a flip. Gus caught it easily and, wary of being singled out, advanced to where Rico stood in front of their group.
“When you have an enemy within arm’s reach,” the Terriot prince continued, skewering Augie with a dangerous stare before addressing the others, “you don’t pull a weapon that can be taken away and used against you. You strike first, hard and fast, palm to the nose, fist to the base of the skull, hand to the neck to rip out any sound of surprise. You incapacitate first then move back to a distance where you can run or draw your own weapon. If you’re thinking only cowards run, you’re a fool. An average enemy can travel seven yards in less than one point five seconds to stab you or pull a gun and shoot you. Less, if you’re up against a professional.”
“And if you can’t run,” Donny posed, “and you’re up close and personal before you know it?”
“If you’re caught in a tight spot, you have four things in your favor. Your enemy will underestimate you, expect you to hesitate, so use that first second to throw them off. Surprise gives you a valuable edge. Use deception by pretending weakness or fear, distraction by looking away suddenly to draw their attention off you, or startle them with a loud cry or aggressive move. Use speed to take advantage of their surprise. React with instinct instead of thought. Hone that weapon until it becomes an automatic response to confrontation.
“But your best answer to confrontation is violence, and by that, I mean the willingness to do whatever it takes to completely subdue your enemy without hesitation. Whatever it takes. Anything else will get you and your team killed. Any time you pull a weapon, do it with the mindset that someone is going to die and you don’t want it to be you. When you don’t have a weapon, you are the weapon.”
Rico turned abruptly, the move bringing him within a heartbeat of an armed Gus Peters. Faced with flaming red eyes and a ferocious roar, Gus took a startled step back, giving Rico the chance to backhand him in the face and twist the knife from his hand as he reeled in pain-induced blindness. In that second, he’d been surprised, debilitated and disarmed, finding himself on the edge of his own blade.
“How do you survive?” Rico shouted at him.
The last thing he expected was for Gus to grab a fistful of his junk, squeezing hard enough to bring tears to Rico’s eyes. While the rest of the group groaned in sympathetic agony, he held onto his bile long enough to bash his forehead into his opponent’s face to gain release. They both staggered back, but Rico quickly oriented himself, clenching Gus in the vee of his elbow, jerking him off balance and spinning him around so he could put the knife point beneath the ear into which he whispered hoarsely, “You’re dead.”
Rico shoved him forward onto his knees while gripping his own for balance.
A long silence then T-Ray cried, “You not only have big balls, they must be made of iron!”
He wished.
This was not how he’d planned things to go earlier that morning, sharing breakfast with the two females he adored. Rico had wanted to linger with them all day, enjoying the sight of them so relaxed and filled with excitement as they settled in to the home the three of them would share. But he couldn’t, not with unfinished business hanging unattended. That business of a traitorous brother.
How he’d wanted Auguste Petitson’s blood on that blade! But he needed answers more.
Once he was sure he could walk without throwing up, Rico led his group to a huge building that housed shipping containers of various shapes and sizes, making a maze of blind corridors throughout the ample space. There, he opened the packet of colored markers he’d borrowed from Evie and spilled them on the floor, instructing, “Pick your weapon of choice. You’ve got twenty minutes to play a game of hide and seek. The object is to put your color on as many opponents as effectively as possible without getting their mark on you. And to make it more fun,” he flipped a switch, plunging the vast space into various shades of shadow, lit only by tiny slits of light from high above, “we’re going to do it in the dark. When the lights come back on, meet me back here. Oh, and I’ll be playing, too. Go.”
There was an immediate scramble as they grabbed up a marker and dashed for cover offered by the crates, separating in the darkness. Rico waited a few beats then went high, jumping to catch the edge of a container and pulling himself above the many canyons where he could crouch low and trot silently, swinging down to pick off the others, and then back up out of sight. And when his watch beeped, he shouted, “Hold!” while he went to turn on the overheads and call his men in.
He lined them up, having them hold their colors in front of them while he did a tally of fatal rainbow stripes received, from most—the outspoken Trey—to least, T-Ray who only had Rico’s and two others. All had Rico’s bright purple line from ear-to-ear.
“How ′bout you?” T-Ray challenged their leader. “How many managed to get you.”
“None,” he stated, only to have Donny contradict him.
“Check again, Hoss,” he called, using his own orange marker to tap beneath his right ear.
Rico put a hand to that spot and came away with a vivid smear of tangerine on his fingertips. He laughed. “Well done. All of you. See you tomorrow. We’ll play again. And, oh, that’s permanent ink, by the way.” He grinned as they cursed. “At the end of the weekend, some of you should look positively gallery-worthy as works of modern art.”
A sense of satisfaction unfolded watching them admire each other’s markings as they wandered out. Until only Auguste remained. When sure they were alone, Gus demanded, “Where are they?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play your games with me, Terriot. Where’s my sister and niece? Their house is empty. What have you done with them?”
“What needed to be done to protect them from you, you son-of-a-bitch.”
“They’re my family! You have no right!”
“I have every right when they looked to me for help after you sold them out to the monsters who want them dead.” When Gus stood silenced by his guilt and surprise, Rico plowed on with a fierce growl. “Family means dying if needs be to keep them safe, not selling them to save your own cowardly ass.”
“You don’t know anything!”
“I know everything! Where were you when that little girl’s arm was broken?”
“Standing between him and my sister with a gun,” he shouted back. Then his voice broke painfully. “I never thought he’d harm Evie. She was . . . was just a child. I still hear her and Ammy screaming every single time I close my eyes.”
Rico didn’t want that to matter. “But you ran away and left them. What kind of brother does that?”
“No! I ran so they’d be safe. And they were, until you and yours came here and started helping Savoie stir that shit up all over again. They were safe and happy, and now you’ve got them back in the cross hairs again. You, not me. This is on you.”
“I had nothing to do with this. You made this mess, not me or mine, and I’ll be damned if the two of them will be caught in the middle of it. How much?”
Auguste drew back behind his shock. “What?”
“How much to pay them off, and for you to disappear forever? And I mean for good.”
“How much?” A harsh laugh. “What, are you just going to write a check to buy my family?”
Rico winced but didn’t relent. “If it will keep them safe from you and the trouble you breed? Yes.”
<
br /> “Fuck you, Terriot. You can’t buy them with your billions, and you can’t dazzle them into forgetting me. You go to hell. All I have to do is wait for you to get tired of playing hero and move on to some other distraction.”
The punch came out of nowhere. Rico hadn’t planned to hit him, but his temper acted on its own accord, clipping the sneering Petitson and nearly knocking him out of his shoes on his way to the concrete. When he didn’t get up, Rico stood over him, a seething tower of fury.
“Don’t you pretend to know how I feel about them, you weaselly bastard. One thing you can believe, is that they mean more to me than my money, or either of our lives. Take that to the bank. I gave you a way out, and you spit on me. Get away from me and stay away from them, or I will kill you on sight.” He stepped over the prostrate form, kicking at him in passing.
“Make all the threats you want, Terriot. They’ll never choose you over me. Never. And you can take that to the bank.”
* * * * *
How had the bastard managed to disappear so completely?
Auguste pounded on the dashboard of his watchdog’s car, a frustrated panic hammering just as fiercely against his ribs.
“He was right there! Where did he go?”
Motorcycle and rider had simply vanished off the street in the middle of bumper-to-bumper traffic, taking with him Augie’s hopes of finding his sister and slipping the ever-tightening leash of his associates.
The driver didn’t answer, the tic jumping in his cheek saying it all. Time was running out on their kinder, gentler approach to getting things done.
He should have just taken the money and run.
“He’ll show up tomorrow. We can try again.”
“I told you,” the driver said with a heavy sigh, “don’t underestimate him. They’re not dumb animals who can be easily led or deceived. They’re hunters, predators more clever and dangerous than you can imagine. They can follow any trail and leave none.”
“So, what do we do?” Gus whined, nursing his jaw.
“If he won’t lead us to her, we’ll let him bring her to us. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll go through everyone he knows or cares about. I’m not going to pay for your promises. They will.”