by Mia Kenney
“Yeah,” Cadence mumbles. “Who’s the little woman with the perky tits I let up to see you today?”
I don’t need to look around to know that all eyes have snapped to me. “She’s nobody. Just someone I’ve hired to paint Harper’s room.”
“But I thought our team didn’t hire women. If I recall correctly, it was something about us fucking our co-workers you were worried about.”
“Don’t fuck her. She’s off limits to all of you pricks.”
“What about a background check? Does she have a name you want to give me so I can run her through the system?” The corners of Cadence’s eyes crinkle and he winks at me before getting up and shouldering his way past me and through the door.
3
Kat
The desert sun is still low in the sky but the dry heat is already unbearable. Growing up I always heard people compare the humidity in Southern California to the arid air of Las Vegas. Hot is hot. Put your head in a preheated oven and breathe. Yep, that’s Vegas heat. And it’s drying the skin from my face one epithelial cell at a time. No matter how much I moisturize and lather on the lotion, I’m convinced I will look like a raisin by the time I reach thirty. If I even live that long.
As I approach the entrance to Romeo Enterprises a huge doorman greets me with a quick nod of his head. “Good morning,” I chirp. Although I can’t see his eyes behind his thick dark sunglasses, the sideways quirk of this mouth makes me feel welcomed.
The same gentleman as yesterday is at the security desk, the thin scar curving from behind his ear to his temple, making him easily recognizable.
“Good morning, sir,” I say, holding out my hand. If I’m going to be working here I should get to know the other employees on a first name basis. His head tilts slightly to the side before he shakes my hand. His grip is firm and strong, and I immediately feel small. “I’m Katalina Martinez. I’ll be working for Mr. Cruz for the next several weeks. Just thought it would be good to introduce myself. You know, the proper thing to do.” Oh god, I hate how that sounds, ‘the proper thing to do’. There is nothing proper about me, beginning with the flat out lie that just passed over my lips.
“Well Katalina, I’ll walk you over to the elevator.” He turns on his heels and makes it to the elevator doors in about three long strides. I shuffle behind, my art bag hanging from one shoulder and my messenger bag filled with sketches from the other. Suddenly I feel like a klutz and in over my head. This is obviously a high-end business, even though I have no idea what kind of business it is. Everything in Vegas is over the top, glitz and glamour. From what I can tell, this building is neither. Though it is as large as any other building on the strip, it is missing the gaudy element I associate with the City of Sin.
Stepping into the elevator, I turn just in time to see the security guard smiling before the doors close. I realize he never told me his name.
“Good morning, Katalina. Happy to see you could make it on time today.”
I wasn’t expecting to see Mr. Cruz the moment I stepped into the apartment. And I certainly wasn’t expecting to see him barefoot in low slung sweats, wearing a faded, too small t-shirt that had NAVY stamped across the front.
“Oh, good morning to you too, sir.” I slip out of my worn ballet flats, and the lush carpet feels like clouds under my feet. I can’t help but wiggle my toes in the soft fibers.
“I see you’ve read over my rules. Good job. I like my employees to be prepared.” His sparkling blue-gray eyes travel down my body, lingering over my breasts and sliding down my legs before hesitating at my feet. “Rainbow sparkle toes?”
My face heats and my ears burn. I had forgotten all about my late night home pedicure. Getting this job was like finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Painting the color prism on my toes just seemed like the natural thing to do. And above all, it made me happy.
“Umm, yes. I couldn’t sleep, so I busted out my collection of nail polishes.”
“Nice. But tell me why you couldn’t sleep,” he says.
I don’t have an answer and his steely gaze makes my stomach flip. He steps closer, filling the space between us. My body temperature shoots up ten degrees and my internal muscles clench. My eyes drift over the strong angles of his face and the dark stubble shading his jaw. The only thing bright about this man is his blue gray eyes, and even they emit an intensity I have never experienced. I swallow hard and squeeze my thighs together. The silence between us suddenly fills with the growling of my stomach.
“What did you eat for breakfast?”
“Tea. I had tea with lemon.” I never have breakfast, it’s not in my budget. But there is no way I’m going to admit that to my new boss.
“That’s what you drank. What did you eat?”
Jesus, this guy is relentless. Breakfast items begin popping up into my thoughts, but I feel like no matter what I say he'll know I’m lying. So I just shrug my shoulders and hope he doesn’t care.
“That’s what I thought. Follow me. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Sit here,” he pulls a high backed stool from under the kitchen island. “Now tell me about your ideas for the nursery while I cook us something to eat. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
“No, I eat meat.” I instantly realize I chose the wrong words and the accidental double entendre isn’t lost on either of us. His lips part and his rapid intake of breath only expands his chest even more. The worn t-shirt he’s wearing stretches even more, outlining his pecs and highlighting his already bulging biceps.
“Good. I like that,” he grunts before turning and pulling ingredients from the stainless steel french door refrigerator.
I can’t help but notice the muscles in his back flexing as he cracks eggs and places strips of thick bacon onto the skillet. Soon the scent of breakfast cooking fills the air and I can’t wait to eat.
“I can show you my sketches,” I say between bites of crispy bacon and buttered rye toast. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a home cooked meal that consists of more than ramen noodles and peanut butter sandwiches. I shove another heaping mound of scrambled eggs into my mouth. “I thought I would start with a base of pale lavender on the walls. It’s a calming color, good for a little girl’s room. I can discuss my ideas with Mrs. Cruz, and she can look at my sketches before I start.”
I’ve been furiously stuffing my face and talking with my mouth full so I don’t even notice that his plate is untouched. Carefully sipping my steaming coffee I raise my eyes to meet his and the intensity of his stare takes my breath away.
“There is no Mrs. Cruz,” he says, “and stop calling me Mr. Cruz. It's Romeo.” He says and flashes a crooked smile. What kind of name is that? I’m sure he uses it to its fullest advantage too. A man like Romeo Cruz is a natural born heart breaker.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed with the new baby and all,” I babble helplessly, sounding like an idiot and unsure of what to say. I wipe some food from the corner of my mouth with my sleeve because I’m classy like that.
“Nothing to apologize for. And I know jack shit about little girls. I’m giving you creative freedom to design the room how you would if you were doing it for your own little girl.”
My own little girl. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I stopped dreaming of having my own children a long time ago.
4
Romeo
“What the fuck did you pussies dump on my team?” I ask. I want to rip this cock suckers head right off and leave him for the vultures to eat.
“Really, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Alvarez’s gang are gun runners, small arms and AK 47’s.”
FBI Special Agent ‘no balls’ Manny looks like he’s about to wet his pants. Actually, now that I step closer to the shaking bag of shit I can smell the piss on him.
“I hate fuckin’ liars. Isn’t that right Chaos?” Two hundred fifty pounds of military made muscle stands to my left, his six foot five inch frame towering over my FBI contact. A contact that looks like he
should still be wearing braces and calling mommy for a ride.
Best friends since bootcamp, I don’t need to look over to know Chaos has my six.
“Sure is, boss.”
“Now, are you gonna tell me the truth or does Chaos need to make you tell the truth?”
“Fuck boss, why are you givin’ him the option?” The sound of rocks thumping together in Chaos’ cargo pants pocket has Special Agent Manny shifting his focus between the both of us.
“I swear, I didn’t know anything,” Manny whimpers. “I overheard talk in the shop. Something about selling girls to the Mexican drug cartel.”
Killing Manny isn’t an option. But letting him think he is going to be killed isn’t breaking any laws. At least none that I’m aware of.
“You see that cactus over there?” I motion with my hand out into the barren desert. Random ugly ass cacti litter the desert, along with tumble weeds and rocks. Rocks are everywhere.
Manny nods his head. I know he has no idea what cactus I’m pointing to and it makes this more fun. “Answer me you cocksucker. Yes or no, do you see that fuckin’ cactus over there? That big tall fucker with the prickly things all over it?”
“Yeah, I umm, I see it.”
“Good. I don’t want you to miss anything. Big Ol’ Chaos is gonna throw a rock at it.”
“Umm, ok.”
“Umm, ok? That’s the best you can say? It’s a fuckin’ privilege to watch him throw a rock. You wanna know why?”
“Sure, of course,” he stutters as beads of sweat pour down his face.
“Well if I told you why it would ruin the surprise, you dumb fuck.”
Manny starts digging the toe of his shoe into the dry ground, kicking up dust and who the hell knows what else. His actions really get on my nerves. If we were over in the sandbox I would have shot the fucker by now. He’s being disrespectful by not looking at me.
“Eyes up here you little fucker. Now, start walking. Don’t look back. And watch that cactus.”
Chaos chuckles and stretches his arm over his head and behind his back. He waits until the dip shit is about fifty yards out and then in one fast as hell move he launches a rock that whizzes right by the head of numb nuts and directly through the cactus, leaving a hole the size of a baseball right in the middle.
Manny jumps and looks back at us, his eyes squinting from the Nevada sun with his mouth hanging open.
“I said don’t fuckin’ turn around. Keep walking or Chaos will put a fuckin’ hole in your head. And make sure you tell that asshole boss of yours I’ll be in contact.”
We stand there for a few more minutes, me fantasizing about bending Anna over the kitchen island and shoving her full of cock and Chaos hurtling rocks at Manny.
“Ahhh!” I look at the man rolling on the ground holding his leg. Can’t really say I feel either way about the fucker screaming in pain. Some people need respect beaten into them.
“Shit boss, I missed.” Chaos mumbles while a shit eating grin spreads across his face.
“Yeah, sure you missed. Now lets go you crazy motherfucker.”
“Sometimes I just can’t help myself. I miss my grenade tossing days.”
Chaos got his nickname for his gift to throw a grenade one hundred yards and hit a target. Spot on. Every fuckin’ time. Considering he was a division one quarterback prior to enlisting and becoming a SEAL it made sense. He had a God given talent to blow shit up from a distance most men couldn’t fathom. His ability to launch explosives in rapid succession from multiple directions and never miss freaked out those fuckers over in the middle east. Jokingly, I had referred to him as Chaos and it just kind of stuck.
“So boss, what’s going on with that chic?” Chaos tries to stretch his legs in my Hummer as I peel wheels down Interstate 15, zooming toward Vegas. He’s too fuckin’ big, even for a hummer.
“Nothing. I hired her to paint Harper’s room.”
“Good. I’ve got a killer hard-on for her. I’ll treat her to a night of Chaos.”
“Don’t fuckin’ touch her. The girl’s off limits.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Chaos laughs as he pulls a peanut butter power bar from the glove compartment. From behind my dark aviators I can see the crazy fucker smiling. I need to make myself clear.
“It’s company policy. No fuckin’ your co-workers. Maybe you need to read the employee handbook.” Jesus Christ, I sound like a little whiney asshole. I had never laid claim to a woman. Especially a woman I barely even knew. But there’s something about her that makes me feel different. And now I’m talking like some pussy whipped teenage boy. Something in my chest longs to have her under me and make her mine.
“Fuck boss. I didn’t even know there was a company handbook. Does it really say no fuckin’ allowed? Shit, I may need to find another job.” Chaos crunches down on the power bar and tosses the wrapper out the window.
“You know you can’t do that either. No tossing trash out the window. It’s not good for the animals. Especially turtles. They choke on that shit and die.” Checking the rearview mirror, I slam my foot on the brake before shifting the truck into reverse. The tires squeal thirty feet later when I stop and lift my chin to Chaos.
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me bossman?”
“You know I don’t joke. Go get that damn wrapper before it kills some turtle.”
Chaos hesitates and shakes his head back and forth before getting out. “You’ve lost your mind. The turtles probably wanna die, livin’ out here in this dry ass desert with no place to go.”
I watch the big guy pound dirt while he picks up his trash and shoves it deep into his back pocket. A year ago I wouldn’t have cared if Chaos threw a trashcan out the window. But now I have baby Harper to worry about. I want her to grow up enjoying the beautiful country I fight to protect. Including the wildlife. Not landscapes littered with garbage.
My sister, Amelia, already has enough to worry about. I need to do everything I can to make life for my two favorite girls easier. When I got the call from the hospital barely hanging on to life after her piece of shit boyfriend beat her I realized I had let her down. Yeah, I did my job protecting our country overseas fighting terrorists groups with the SEALs. But I failed to protect my very own little sister.
When I discovered he tried to kill her when she announced her pregnancy, it only gave me more reason to hunt him down and make sure he’d never be capable to inflict harm on an innocent person ever again.
My whole life I’ve had a strong sense of duty, justice, and loyalty. I’m naturally wired to protect those who cannot protect themselves. And something about the breathtaking Katalina Martinez has all my inner alarms going off. She's hiding something and I’ll find out what it is.
“You know what boss?” Chaos asks as he climbs back into the Hummer. “I think with the size of my cock I could get a job at one of those brothels,” Chaos says as I speed down the highway. “Actually, I know I could get a job at a brothel. And women could pay to come fuck me. Hell, I would even lick their twats for a little extra cash. Women love that, I could eat them out and then fuck ’em. And I bet a brothel doesn’t have an employee handbook.”
“Shut up Chaos. We both know you’re not quitting your job. And brothels only hire women to fuck men you dumbass. No one is going to pay to ride your dick.”
“The hell they won’t. And they’ll pay extra to have their twat licked too. The fuckin’ would be a like a fringe benefit. Like an employee perk. Hell, I know they’ll pay top dollar to have their pussy devoured. Ever meet a woman who doesn’t want a good dirty licking? No, you haven’t. And do you know why?”
“Please enlighten me with your words of wisdom.”
“Because women want to come just like guys do. They may play their games and pretend they want to be chased but rollout a long wet tongue and a woman will ride your face fast and hard. Because at the end of the day women are horny filthy fuckers just like us. Even the lesbians. They want an exceptional pussy licking too.”
> “Jesus Chaos. I think you just unraveled the mystery of all women. Thank you for that, bro.”
5
Kat
“I still don’t know your name,” I chirp as I follow the front desk man to the elevator. His stride equals at least three of my steps and it’s hard to keep up. The man looks the exact same everyday I come in. Dark suit with an overly starched white button down shirt exposing just a hint of a tattoo creeping up his thick corded neck. Even the expensive clothing can’t hide his muscular biceps and huge thighs.
After being here a week I still haven’t figured this place out. Romeo is nowhere to be found since the first morning he made me breakfast. A little part of me feels disappointed every time I leave at the end of the day. I’ve never looked forward to seeing a man, and for some reason he excites a part of me that I thought didn’t exist.
Before the elevator doors close completely a wide brawny hand reaches in and holds it open. “It’s Cadence. But you can call me anything ya like, sweetheart,” he says, winking with a sly smirk as the doors seal and I begin my journey up to Romeo’s apartment.
A tinge of melancholy clouds over me when the doors open to an empty apartment. Nothing has been touched from the day before, or the day before that. The same stack of mail sits on the granite kitchen island.
The memory of him cooking breakfast and then watching me devour every crumb on my plate warms my cheeks. Tension coils deep in my stomach whenever I think of him.