Wreaking Havoc

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Wreaking Havoc Page 34

by Angel Steel


  My forearm bangs against his as his thumb presses down on my clit. The more pressure I used to roll him in my hand, the firmer he circles my clit. His cock swells inside of me, thickening more, widening me more than I’ve ever been.

  I groan, as he wraps a fistful of my hair in his hand and pulls my head back roughly. His lips brush over my ear. “You belong to me, Lia. No one fuckin’ else,” he growls and slams his mouth down on my neck and bites down hard as his fingers pinch my clit with so much pressure I erupt around him. My eyes roll into the back of my head, a scream leaving my lips as I spasm around him. He hisses as he pulls his mouth from my neck and leans back thrusting deep.

  “Fuck, baby. Keep squeezing my cock,” he grunts pumping his hips a couple more times.

  As soon as my muscles contract around him, he throws his head back and yells out his release. His body jerks as he explodes inside me. My legs give out from under me and I collapse onto my stomach, my chest heaving. Then Dante drops down beside me, and curls himself around me. His arm tightens over my back and grip onto my hip, pulling me flush against his front.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, ignoring the lone tear sliding down my cheek, as his fingers trace over my exposed stomach. How am I going to allow him to walk away from us?

  I need to decide whether to fight for us, fight for our relationship, fight for my husband, the one I lost five years ago, or allow him to walk out of my life like he did then and move on. Did he want me to fight for what we once had? Could I actually do it and not end up more heartbroken than I already was or was I going to be the laughing stock of the town? Could I actually allow him to walk away, knowing he is alive doing whatever he is out there while I’m here miserable without him? Can I even consider that choice at all? Did he even want to be here with me? He called me his wife. That means something right?

  I sink further into the mattress as I hear Dante’s shallow breathing behind me. Raising my hand, I place it over his. The feel of my husband wrapped around me. His breath on my neck, his touch, his voice, the feel of him deep inside of me. All of it. It would though. I knew deep down I am losing him all over again. My heart is breaking again. I can’t deal with it. I won’t survive it this time, knowing my husband is alive out there somewhere and not here with me. It hurts knowing that he came back to me and brought me back to life only to bury me again once he decides to leave.

  I knew the moment Amelia left our bed this morning. Lying there awake, listening to her in the kitchen I glance around the room. Everything is still the same. Nothing has changed since I left her. There’s still a pile of my clothes sitting on the seat in the corner of the room. I know if I had a look in the walk-in closet that my clothes would still be in there.

  I know she wouldn’t have gotten rid of anything of mine. I stand from the bed and pull my jeans up and make my way to the kitchen. Stopping in the archway, I pull on my shirt and lean against the wall watching as she looks out the window above the sink. She doesn’t turn when I step into the small room, and up behind her.

  Her back stiffens as I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her flush against me. “Morning,” I whisper near her ear.

  She spins around and moves out of my hold and over to the table in the center of the room. “Coffee is ready,” she says and sits down on the chair at the table, looking my way.

  I grab a cup and pour myself a coffee and move over to the table and sit down opposite her.

  “Are you going to explain to me now, what is going on? Why you’re back here? Why you look like this?” She says as her hand flicks over at me.

  I raise my eyebrow at her. “Straight to it, I see,” I say around my cup as I take a sip.

  “No point in pussyfooting around it,” she mumbles.

  Placing my cup on the table, I glance over at her. “Brook pulled me from the rubble of the explosion that day. I wasn’t rushed to the paramedics, instead was taken back to the SUV and driven away from the scene. He checked me over as Bransen drove toward a secure location. I didn’t know what was going on till we arrived at the house.” I lean back in the chair, staring at Amelia. She sits there frozen in place as I continue talking.

  “Bransen got word from his officer undercover that there was a hit out on you. He said it came in the moment we stepped foot into that house. I couldn’t lose you, Amelia,” I tell her.

  I watch as a tear falls from the corner of her eye and slides down over her cheek. “There were two options. Either I survive the explosion and jump straight into the witness protection unit or pretend to die and come back and go undercover and finally end it.” My hand grips my cup in front of me as I stare at her. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she tries to process what I’ve said. Her mouth opens and I know what she is going to say, but I beat her to it.

  “There wasn’t a chance to even consider picking witness protection, Lia. I wasn’t going to uproot my life, our life; not knowing what would happen or when. I couldn’t do it to you. I know how much you loved being here and with your family and friends. Bransen knew my answer before I said it and I was shipped out to Texas. I met Masen and Rosko there, found out they were black ops and assigned alongside them. I had facial reconstruction, and a Laryngoplasty, that is why I don’t sound the same as I used to. I also couldn’t bring myself in having eye surgery to change the color of my eyes. It was one thing I knew if I did come back you would know it was me, just by looking into them. Then I undertook extensive training to change my body completely from what it was to what it is now. Everything about me had to change, Amelia. I couldn’t allow someone to recognize me here, if they did, it would have blown the whole mission. But being away from you for so long, I couldn’t bare it anymore. There were countless nights that I wanted to retract my decision, and just come back home to you, but I knew the second I did, it would all be over.”

  Her whole body shakes across from me, as she swipes at the tears streaming down her face.

  She looks down at her hands, and back up at me. “That night at Laffy’s, who was that woman that you kissed? And don’t deny that it wasn’t you, I know it was.”

  Sighing. “That night, I did meet up with Bransen. And yes, I was there that night with a woman.”

  Amelia’s hand flies to her mouth as she gasps. I raise my hand quickly. “It wasn’t what you thought. I only kissed her on the cheek that was it. I had to make it look like we were a couple.”

  “Who was she?” Amelia asks, in a whisper.

  “Shelia,” I answer, not taking my eyes from hers. “A member of the largest cartel family was apparently supposed to be there having dinner, with his nephew, but it was false information. No one was there that I or Shelia could see. I couldn’t go in alone, so Shelia put her hand up for it, so it wasn’t as obvious.” Gripping my cup, I lift it to my lips and take a sip of my coffee. “I hated myself for keeping that part from you. I wanted to tell you the truth, but I couldn’t. As soon as you mentioned it to me that night, I knew I had to lie. You were never meant to find out that I was there.”

  So many nights I wanted to tell her the truth. She knew as well as I did, I couldn’t talk about any case at work with her. And the fact that she had seen me with another woman cut me. I never wanted her to see that.

  Her shoulders slump forward slightly, relieved at my words, I’m hoping. “And the reason you’re back here, now?” I just barely hear the words leave her lips.

  Then there were the lonely nights I spent laying there, picturing Amelia’s smile, her beautiful laughter that always brought out a smile on my face, or her lying beside me as she curled into my side. Her light touch on my skin, her breath lingering over my chest as she slept. God I missed her touch. Her smell. Her taste. Shaking the thought away, “I’ve been assigned to bring one of the largest drug lords into custody. It’s taken five years to get where we are now. Every time we get close, he disappears. Not this time though. We have everything in place that we need to lock him away for the rest of his life.”

  “So, that’s the r
eason why you’re back here then, nothing else?” her voice trembles with the words.

  I know what she’s asking. I don’t know why she would when she knows the answer. “Yes, it is the reason I’m here now, but not the main reason.” I push my chair back and stand. Her eyes follow me as I walk around the table and kneel down to her level. I lift my hand and cup her cheek, her eyes close and she leans into my hand more. “I couldn’t stay away from you anymore, Lia,” I whisper. “I have never stopped loving you. Every breath I took was for you. Every beat of my heart is for you. You are the one that kept me alive these last five years. Knowing you were safe, here with your family, kept me fighting. Fighting, so that one day I could come back to you. You are all I breathe. The love I have for you will never end baby. My heart has always belonged to you, Lia, and you belong to me.”

  She inhales sharply, and then she pushes her chair back and stands abruptly, and backs away from the table, shaking her head. “I don’t belong to someone that’s apparently dead, Dante. That left me here… breaking apart, and you watched from a distance the pain you put me through. If you loved me as much as you say, you wouldn’t have let me suffer like that. You would’ve never left and I wouldn’t have gone through what I did.” Wiping the tears from her face. “Did I mean that little to you? You walked away from us, so easily. And not once looked back at the damage you left behind.”

  I stomp over to her, and grip onto her arms, sliding my hands down and gripping onto her own. “You meant everything to me, Amelia. You still do now. I want my wife back, Lia. I want the last five years I missed with you,” he says leaning his head forward and resting it against mine. I made a mistake with what I did, but I had to, Lia. Shit!” His head lifts back up, then his hand is caressing my cheek. “If I could go back in time and change it, I would in a heartbeat.”

  “Please don’t do this to me, Dante,” she sobs, her hands relaxing in my hold.

  “I can’t stay away from you, Lia. You and I both know that. You have no idea how hard it was to watch you go through what you did, baby. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you, to hold you, to cherish you, to wipe away the tears I caused. To feel your love, everything.”

  She stumbles back, more tears sliding down her face. “It’s too late to apologize, Dante. You’ve already done the damage, and there’s no way you can put my heart back together the way it was, even if you are standing here alive and in front of me. I gave you all of me, every piece I could belonged to you, Dante, not someone else, you.”

  I take a step in her direction. She raises her hand between us and I stop. “You’re leaving as soon as this mission is completed. The moment it is, you’ll walk away from this town, from me and never look back, leaving me here to pick up the pieces of my broken heart. I can’t allow that again, Dante.”

  “I won’t let this go between us, Lia. Not a fucking chance,” I growl, stomping toward her. As I stop in front of her, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

  Lia shakes her head and steps back. “You better get that, it might be important,” she tells me, and then she spins around and dashes off down the hallway.

  “This isn’t over, Lia,” I yell after her. “Fuck!” I turn around and slam my fist down on the table, then reach into my pocket and pull out my phone.

  Swiping the screen, I read the text message that has come through.

  Showtime!

  I straighten and slide my phone back in my pocket and walk toward the front door.

  I need this to end now so I can have my life and my wife back.

  The day had dragged on. Nothing went right like it was meant to. Why would it? I sat in my booth alone, not wanting to see anyone. The only time I left the booth was to go to the bathroom. Several times I’d done that, I found Dante out in the hall, staring my way as he spoke to either Torch or Dad. I ignored him and kept walking till I was safely back in my booth. He tried a couple of times coming into the booth to talk, but I pushed him out and locked the door. I couldn’t. I knew if he stepped one foot into the booth I’d lose it completely.

  Leaning against the closed door, I glance at the clock and sigh. It’s home time. I wait for several minutes listening as several footsteps go by the door. Some stop, and I hear whoever it is breathing through the door, then move on. When I don’t hear anything more, I unlatch the door and slide it open and walk to the front of the shop. It’s my turn to close up. Reaching the door, I swing the sign around on the door and pull the blind down. Turning around I make my way back and switch the lights off as I go. As I make my way down the hall, I hear a faint metallic sounding noise coming from behind the door to the mechanic shop. Frowning, I stop outside the door and lean my ear in to listen.

  The noise behind the door continues. I grab the first thing I see, a wooden bat leaning in the corner and pick it up and place it on my shoulder as I slowly begin turning the handle. As the lock clicks into position, it echoes through the empty room and the noise stops behind the door. Holding my breath, I force the door open completely and step into the room raising the bat over my head, my hands shaking as I search around the room.

  Something heavy drops to my left, spinning on my feet, I swing the bat in that direction.

  “Jesus Christ!”

  Holding the bat to my shoulder, I step forward and see Max standing in front of me, hands raised, eyes wide as he stares at me.

  “Damn it, Max!” I drop the bat to my side. “You scared the shit out of me,” I say, laughing slightly. He continues to stand there, watching me, as I look around the room, which is now completely clean. Not a tool out of place, a part, anything. I look back at him. “What are you doing in here? I thought everyone had left?”

  He lifts his hand to the back of his neck and rubs. “Thought I’d stay behind and clean up,” he answers then drops his hand to his side.

  “Why would you do that?” Who in their right mind would stay behind and clean up? I didn’t even do that myself in my own booth.

  His shoulders sag forward slightly, his eyes close as he stands before me. “Something to do,” he sighs.

  My grip loosens on the bat, but I stay where I am. I’m still a little weary of him, after the last time I was alone with him. I don’t want a repeat. “Being home would be better than here, Max.”

  His back stiffens as his eyes rest on mine. His hands clench at his side, his chest rising and falling quickly. I step in his direction. “Max,” I say stepping closer to him.

  He shakes his head, and turns away from me and goes over to the bench.

  Frowning, I walk over to where he is, but keep a little distance between us. It could go good or bad here. “Is everything all right?” I whisper.

  He stops what he’s doing on the bench and rests his hands on it. “Yeah,” his voice wavers.

  Then he turns around, facing me. My heart breaks as I see tears in his eyes, his shoulders shaking slightly. I drop the bat and move forward and wrap my arms around him. I tighten my arms around his body as it trembles in my hold, and then I feel his arms go around me, pulling me harder into him. My fingers stroke over his back as he leans into my neck.

  Once his body stops trembling, I stand back and look up at him. “Max,” I whisper, raising my hand to his cheek and wiping away the tears with my thumb.

  “I can’t, Lia. Not yet,” he chokes out.

  Nodding. “Okay, when you’re ready.” I smile up at him. “I think we both need cheering up, how about a beer, my treat,” I ask, turning toward the door.

  “A bottle sounds better,” Max answers.

  Laughing. “Of course, it does,” I reply and walk out of the room with him following me. “Just need to grab my bag,” I tell him and run off to the booth to grab it. Switching the remaining lights off, I make my way back to where I left him and find him at the back door, holding it open for me. I smile up at him as I approach and walk through the door and stop outside and wait for him to lock it.

  Sliding my hand into my bag, I feel around for my dad’s truck keys as we walk in si
lence through the carpark. I hear each crunch of his boots as they step on the gravel on the ground. Once I feel the keys, I pull them up and out and find the one to unlock the door. As I slide the key in to open the door, I throw my bag onto the bench seat and begin pulling myself up into the cabin when someone grabs me from behind and pulls me back out of the truck and hard against them. Their hand slams over my mouth, as I kick back trying to dislodge them.

  “Shit,” a grunt comes from behind me.

  I dig my nails into the forearm, clawing at the skin, as my body thrashes in their grip. Their hand cups my mouth and nose and that’s when I realize there’s something in their hand. I try not to breathe, but it’s too late. My head begins to spin, my movement going slack in their grip, and then I’m moving backward away from my dad’s truck.

  “Max,” I whimper out, as I’m pulled further and further away from the truck. I’m lifted up and thrown over a shoulder and grunt at the hard impact. Whoever has me begins to pick up their pace and before long I’m in a vehicle, moving away from the shop, and have no clue as to where I’m going or who has me. As my eyes roll into the back of my head, I hear a voice, ‘I’ve got her,’ then blackness consumes me completely.

  Jesus!

  Why is my head pounding?

  My head falls forward on my shoulders, waking me up. I wince at the pain in my neck. Lifting my face up to the roof, I blink several times then the room comes into view. Well, if you call it a room. Groaning, I lick my dry lips and stare at the blank wall in front of me. Shifting my head on my shoulders, I turn the opposite way and my eyes land on a door. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and shift slightly and then open them again and look down my body.

  My arms hang down at the side of me, shifting my eyes forward, my legs bent in front of me, leaning a little to the side. I find why my back is so stiff, I’m sitting on a metal chair.

  A twinge of pain shoots up the back of my calf muscles as I move my feet a bit. I stop moving as I feel something tighten around my ankle. Shaking my head to clear it, I flex my fingers and start to pull my hands up, but they don’t move. I yank harder, but still unmoving. I slide back into the chair more and lean over to my right as far as I can go without falling over.

 

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