Army

by Wilder, Chiah

  “I wouldn’t want that.” Army stood up. “I got some club business I need to do. Text me the time we’re gonna meet up with the ladies.”

  “Okay. Are you planning to go over to Dad’s on Sunday? Starla’s making dinner.”

  “Is she the one you told me about the other day? The one he just met?” Taylor nodded. “I’ll pass.”

  “I think Dad wants you over. Asher and Kali will be there with Joshua. Don’t you want to see your nephew?”

  “I’m going over to Asher’s tomorrow. Don’t push me on this, okay?” Army threw Taylor a warning look.

  “Okay. I’ll text you soon with the details about tonight.”

  “Sounds good,” Army said as he walked out the door.

  The crumbling three-story building in the run-down part of the city looked like it belonged in a horror film. Broken windows, graffiti, and an air of death surrounded the abandoned building. Army drove slowly around the narrow street that circled the place. Rusted cans, piles of trash, and tangled balls of tumbleweed cluttered the road. Even though blackness stared out of the windows, and an eerie stillness surrounded the place, he could smell the desperation from scores of junkies who made the dilapidated building their home.

  He turned off the motor and walked toward the rusted door that had a screaming ghoul painted on it. It looked like the stuff nightmares were made of, but then, Army figured that living in this hellhole must be a nightmare. Sand crunched under his boots, and he spied used syringes littering the ground. The closer he got to the building, the more prevalent the scent of urine, sweat, and feces grew.

  He walked up the decaying concrete stairs then touched the gun that was tucked away in his waistband under his loose T-shirt before opening the door and entering. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but soon he saw shadowy figures scurrying away to darkened corners and other rooms.

  “Do you got any smack?” a female voice asked him.

  Army turned to the left and saw a skinny woman huddled against the wall. “No. I’m here to buy. Is Lil’ Donnie around?”

  The woman pushed herself up and staggered toward him. The sunlight behind him cast a diffused illumination on her as she came closer. Army stepped back, his senses on high alert. The woman smelled like she hadn’t bathed in a long time. Her face and arms were covered with scabs and sores, and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She grabbed the hem of her dirty shirt with one hand and lifted it up to reveal two small breasts. “I can give you this”—her other hand slid down between her thighs—“if you give me a hit,” she slurred.

  “I told you, I’m here to buy.” Army wanted to throw her a twenty-dollar bill, but he didn’t; he knew that gesture would circulate like wildfire, and he’d be surrounded by junkies begging for their next fix. Keeping her in his peripheral view, he glanced around and wondered where the hell Lil’ Donnie was.

  The snitch had told Army he’d be at the building at three p.m. Anger sizzled his nerves. Four years in the army made punctuality second nature for him. Another addict came out of the shadows and stared at him. The man looked to be in his teens and had long, straggly hair. Like the woman, who had now slumped down on the floor, scabs and sores dotted the young man’s face and limbs. He shoved his hands in his jeans.

  “I want a nickel bag,” he rasped as he opened his hand.

  Army looked at the wadded-up bills and shook his head. “I’m here to buy. Looking for Lil’ Donnie.”

  “Over here,” a voice whispered.

  Army stepped back cautiously and placed his hand on the gun. From the corner of his eye, he saw a man plastered against the wall.

  “How much do you want?” the man asked.

  Army turned around and recognized the droopy eyes and lazy smile of the dealer. “I’m looking for a couple of baggies of your best stuff.” Army came in close.

  “I got you covered, dude. I don’t keep the good stuff on me. Follow me.” Lil’ Donnie climbed up a flight of stairs and headed to a closed door. He turned the lock and went inside.

  Army assessed the area then entered the room and locked the door behind him. “You sure no one can hear us?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Yeah. Youse got the money?”

  “After you talk.”

  Army watched Lil’ Donnie go over to the window and look out. The dealer was one of several snitches the Night Rebels used to gather information. He’d been on the MC’s payroll for the last two years. So far, he’d proved to be reliable and as honest as they could expect from a two-bit dealer.

  “The word is that the 39th Street Gang is setting up a meeting with Satan’s Pistons in a few weeks. They hate the Arizona bastards and they’re planning to rip them off by giving them less quantity and quality. The word is that the biker motherfuckers are paying a fuckload of money for what’s gonna be a shit product. They’ll be diluting the smack with starch and powdered milk.”

  Army scrubbed his face with his fist. “The Pistons will never fall for that. Are you sure about your info?”

  The man bobbed his head. “Yeah. The 39th dudes are gonna have the top and middle layer of the shipment with the pure stuff, but the rest is gonna be fucked.”

  “Then the 39th fuckers aren’t planning to team up with the Pistons.”

  “Nope. They see it like the fuckers need them. The 39th Street Gang don’t need the Pistons except for the easy money they’re handing to them.” Lil’ Donnie laughed.

  “Where’s the meeting gonna be at?”

  “I don’t know yet. It’ll cost more when I find out.” The snitch glanced out the window.

  “You expecting someone?” Army’s voice had an edge to it as he slipped his hand under his T-shirt.

  “No. I just don’t like staying here too long. I’m usually in and outta here pretty quick.”

  Army stared at the dealer. “You better go then. I’ll go after you’ve left.” He slipped his hand in his pocket and took out a roll of bills. “Let me know about the meeting.”

  Lil’ Donnie counted out the bills, shoved them in the inner pocket of his sports jacket, and grinned. “It’s always good doing business with you.” He opened the door and closed it quietly.

  Army watched him leave and waited for a while to make sure no one was creeping around. He took out his gun and walked down the stairs. The woman and young man were no longer there, but in their place were three teenagers huddled over lighters, and under the flickering flames, their faces resembled ghoulish masks.

  He stepped out into the sunshine and didn’t relax until he settled down on Taylor’s couch. His brother wasn’t home, so Army gave Steel a call to update him on what he’d learned from their snitch.

  Right after he hung up from talking to the president, Army’s phone pinged. He glanced at the text.

  Taylor: We’ll meet the women @ 7 for dinner.

  As Army kicked off his boots and plopped his feet up on the coffee table, excitement surged through him. It was a new sensation for him in regard to a woman. The only time he felt that way with women was when they were fucking, but then again, that was the way men were wired.

  Army: We still going dancing?

  Taylor: Yeah. It was my idea about dinner. Cool?

  Army grinned.

  Army: Sure. I’m @ ur place now.

  Taylor: I’ll be home from the gym in an hr.

  Army wanted to ask if the sexy fighter was at the gym, but he put down his phone instead, then went into the kitchen to grab a couple of beers. Settling back on the couch, he stared at the big-ass TV screen in front of him; it almost took up the entire room. Army took a swig of beer and leaned back against the cushions.

  Army hated to admit it, but he was looking forward to seeing Stiletto. He didn’t even know what it was about her that had struck him so forcefully that night at the fights, but he’d been thrown off balance when he’d first seen her. It was her eyes that drew me in, and after that, it was all her. There was something about the way she’d walked to the middle of the ring, t
he sexy tilt of her chin, which seemed to exude confidence, and the way she moved in a sensual yet violently charged dance that ensnared him. Afterward, when he saw her in those fuck-me heels and wickedly tight dress with her hair falling over her shoulders, he knew he had to have her. But she acted like she wasn’t interested. He snorted. Bullshit. You’re not fooling me. The light flush that had spread up her neck when their eyes met, along with the way she’d gasped from his touch outside the restaurant after that crazy spark had passed between them, confirmed what he already knew—she wanted him as bad as he wanted her.

  “If you want me to chase you, sweetheart, the hunt’s on,” Army said under his breath.

  He interlaced his fingers behind his head and stretched back, a slow smile spreading over his face. He hadn’t had this much fun with a woman in a very long time.

  Chapter Six

  Mia swiped another coat of burgundy mascara on her lashes and stepped back to look at herself in the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom. Sweeping her eyes over her eggplant-colored mesh mini-dress with spaghetti straps, and her five-inch peep-toe lace-up heels, she wondered if she should change into a pair of leggings and a top.

  Snickers sat at the base of the mirror, looking up at her. Mia smiled. “You like my shiny dress? Is it too much?” If it was a regular Friday night with her friends, she’d already have been out the door, not giving a second thought about her outfit, but this wasn’t an ordinary clubbing night—Army would be there.

  “Why the hell am I second-guessing my wardrobe?” Snickers meowed and blinked her blues. Mia shook her head. “I guess I don’t want him to think I got all dressed up for him … and I don’t want him ogling me all night.” She glanced back at her reflection; the sheath draped over her body, enhancing every feminine aspect of her figure. I love this dress. The minutes slipped away … Then, she turned away from the mirror, snatched her black clutch that sat on the dresser, and went downstairs.

  After refilling her cats’ dry food bowls, she stroked each one behind the ears then picked up her car keys and went into the garage. Butterflies fluttered about inside her as she drove to the restaurant, and she groaned in frustration. How the hell am I going to make it through tonight? I should call Taylor and say I just threw up. The way her sour stomach churned, she wouldn’t be that far off with the white lie. Why did I agree to this! Loyalty weighed her down; she couldn’t disappoint Peyton or Taylor. I’ll just have to make sure I keep my distance from Army and not let him get under my skin. His smugness irked the crap out of her, and she suspected he knew that and got a kick out of egging her on. She vowed not to let him suck her into his childish game. I’ll be polite, but distant. Relieved that she’d come up with a plan, she loosened her death grip on the steering wheel and turned on the radio.

  LongHorn was one of Durango’s newer restaurants, and it had a more modern look than the traditional dark woods and burgundy leather chairs that had become the stereotypical décor for steakhouses. Warm burnt-orange-colored walls, maple wood floors, brushed-steel tables, as well as chairs upholstered in a mélange of colors and patterns, and copper animal and landscape wall hangings gave the fine-dining restaurant a cozy but urban ambiance. A spectacular view of the San Juan Mountains helped to keep the place packed almost every night.

  After circling the parking lot a few times, Mia finally landed a parking spot. As she slid out of the car, her phone rang.

  “Hi. I just got here. Are you inside already?” she asked Peyton.

  “I’m not feeling so good,” Peyton replied. Mia’s heartbeat raced as she leaned against the car, her fingers touching her parted lips as Peyton continued, “I know … I’m the one who made you set this whole thing up. I feel terrible about it.”

  “I’m at the fucking restaurant. I don’t even want to be here. And you’re bagging out on me? No fucking way.”

  “I’m just sick to my stomach. I don’t know what I was thinking,” Peyton said.

  “You’re just nervous.” Mia’s mind raced. How can she be canceling?

  “I’m terrified.”

  “He’s just a guy. I’m going to be there and so is Taylor. Taylor’s real easygoing, and if things don’t click with you and his brother, it’s no big deal. You’re not on a blind date alone with him. Anyway, Taylor didn’t set this up like a date.” At least I don’t think he did. “You have to come. It’ll be fun. Remember how much fun it was the last time we went to Sound?” It really wasn’t—too many guys who touched before asking.

  “Yes … we did have fun,” Peyton replied in a soft voice.

  “And I hear the steak is superb at LongHorn. If nothing else, we’ll get a good dinner and a few drinks at Sound. You love EDM.” Mia tapped her foot on the asphalt while crossing her fingers.

  “All right, but you can’t leave early, okay?” Peyton said.

  Irritation pricked along her skin. Peyton was giving her conditions when the whole damn idea had been Peyton’s. Whatever. “Yeah, okay. Deal. Are you dressed?”

  “Yes. I just need to do my hair.”

  “How long until you get here?”

  “Twenty-five minutes?” Peyton replied.

  “I’ll meet you inside. Just hurry.” Mia put the phone in her clutch and walked across the parking lot. “I definitely need a drink,” she muttered.

  “Hi, Mia.” Taylor’s voice rode on the breeze.

  She looked around and saw him standing in front of the restaurant. She waved. “Hey.” Then Army appeared and she gasped at how handsome he looked in a dove gray button-down shirt and black dress pants that fit him to perfection. A dark rim of stubble bracketed his strong jaw and framed his full mouth. Wisps of inked shapes curled around his wrists and reached up under his fitted shirt, which was unbuttoned at the collar. Then he looked directly at her and his eyes sparkled like storm clouds right before lightning hit. A thrill worked its way up her spine.

  Army lifted his chin then smirked, his twist of lips almost lethal. Mia broke eye contact with him and smiled at Taylor as she swallowed in a vain attempt to moisten her dry mouth. “You look beautiful.” Army’s voice washed over her, making her insides melt.

  They hadn’t even gone into the restaurant and her body was already misbehaving. This was ridiculous. “Thanks,” she sputtered.

  “Where’s Peyton?” Taylor asked.

  Grateful for breaking through their lust, Mia cleared her throat and walked up to Taylor. “She’s running a little late but should be here soon. Let’s go in. I could use a drink.”

  Army opened the door for Mia as she walked past; the heat of his body caressed her, and the intensity of his stare made things inside her clench. She made a beeline to the bar and leaned against the polished stainless steel counter pretending that everything was normal.

  “What do you want?” Army asked.

  His scent wrapped around Mia and filled her senses. She turned around only to find him close behind with his gaze locked on hers. She wondered where on his body he’d put his cologne. Her eyes drifted to his chest—the outline of his taut muscles visible against the shirt, and she imagined dabbing some of the spicy-scented liquid lightly over his pecs, abs, and the sculpted V that she was positive he had. Touching him. Smelling him. Taking him in as she pressed her bare breasts against his delectable chest. Suddenly lightheaded, she swayed, and his powerful arm gripped her waist.

  “Let me find a seat for you,” Army said.

  “No … I’m okay. It’s just so crowded and stuffy in here.”

  “Our table’s ready,” Taylor said as he approached them.

  Thank God. Mia slid by Army and followed Taylor, making a mental note to ignore any sinfully delicious scents of sandalwood, tangy herbs, and spicy pepper emanating from him for the rest of the night.

  Mia sat down at the square table and immediately placed her clutch on the chair to the right of her while tapping the empty place on the other side of her. “Come sit here, Taylor.” She gave a saccharin-sweet smile and a thread of satisfaction wove
through her as Taylor edged out Army, then sat down.

  The chair across from her scraped on the hardwood floor, and Army sank down, leaned back, and winked at her, the corner of his mouth lifting in a sly half-smile. “I like the view better from here.”

  As they ordered their drinks, Mia was acutely aware of Army’s unwavering eyes on her, which she refused to acknowledge, hoping it would convince him that she wasn’t interested. By the time her Manhattan arrived, she’d talked nonstop to Taylor, and the confused look on his face made her feel like an idiot. Army was making her act like a pathetic girl rather than a strong and confident woman. Why am I so nervous? This is ridiculous. And where the fuck is Peyton? She glanced at her phone, cursing her friend for being so late.

  “Peyton should be here at any moment.” She glanced quickly at Army then gripped the glass and took a deep drink in an attempt to quell the flutters in the pit of her stomach.

  “So is Peyton my date?” Army asked.

  Mia felt her throat constrict and panic seized her as she coughed and choked.

  “Are you okay?” Taylor asked as concern laced his voice.

  Not able to talk, she nodded and placed a napkin over her mouth. Diners at the table next to theirs stared at her, and the waiter rushed over.

  “Can I help with anything?” he asked.

  As she shook her head, all Mia wanted to do was slide down her chair and disappear. “I just swallowed wrong,” she managed to spit out. “It’s okay.” The whole time she was making a fool of herself, Army’s gaze remained steadfast. He’s infuriating! She dabbed the corners of her eyes with the napkin.

  After a few seconds of silence, Army leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. “You never answered me. Is Peyton my date for the night?”

  “She wanted to meet you,” Taylor said, handing Mia his unused napkin. “You don’t date, remember?” he smiled weakly at Mia.

  “So this is a date for her, but not for me. Is your friend cool with that, Stiletto?”