Speed of Light (Marauders #3.5)

by Lina Andersson

  When she saw him, she hastened her steps, and he caught her in a hug.

  “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he mumbled.

  “Missed you, too,” she said and took a step back. “And I’m unemployed. As in, I’ll pick up my things and will never go back to G.O. after that.”

  “Uh… Is this a good or a bad thing?”

  “I haven’t decided. I’ve been running around for five days, my head is spinning, everything is upside down, and I just barely know what I’m talking about. Just shut me up with a dick in my mouth when you’re fed up, because I’m gonna talk for hours if you don’t.”

  Mace halted and stared at her. “Are you on something?”

  “Caffeine. A lot—even for being me,” she said, and he took a breath. That was a lot of fucking caffeine. “I’m gonna keep talking now. I think I might have a buyer for the article series. The company released it, so I’m free to sell it, but I have no idea what’ll happen even if I sell it.”

  Mace took her hand and started them towards the exit. “What happened?”

  “He didn’t like my idea, he wanted the story on you guys, and I told him I wouldn’t write it. Then he asked if it was because I was fucking you, and it went downhill from there. I’m sorry, my brain is fried. I’ve been running around for five days straight, trying to sell the goddamn article, get things settled in D.C. and just… shit.”

  “Settle things?”

  “Yeah, I had stuff there and I obviously need to save money. I have a delivery coming tomorrow. Guess I’ll actually make use of the attic.”

  “You have an attic?”

  “I don’t?”

  “I don’t know,” he laughed. “If it’s not too much, we have space at the clubhouse.”

  “I might take you up on that. I should probably go through it all, though.

  She kept talking the entire drive, and he was stunned. Kathleen was usually a woman of few words, but now it was like she’d been quiet for five days—which he doubted, judging by what she was talking about—and she needed to get it out of her.

  He followed her inside, and the second the door closed behind him, she was in his arms.

  “I’m sticking my dick in your mouth now.”

  “Or tongue. I think I prefer tongue this time,” she mumbled, and he was fine with that.

  Not three minutes later, they were naked in bed, and it was a fast, hard, and quick fuck. Just to get rid of the worst itch, and when they both stayed in bed, he knew they wouldn’t even get dressed before they got to the next round.

  He turned towards Kathleen and ran his hand down her spine. She shivered and smiled at him with her eyes still closed. She’d calmed down, and he made a mental note that even when she was extremely wired, a fuck calmed her down. He’d known it worked when she was twitchy, but she’d been more than twitchy earlier.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “I think I could go for another round,” she answered. “This time with your dick in my mouth.”

  “Yeah, I know that,” he chucked, “but I meant more of a long-term thing. What are you going to do?”

  “I’m gonna cross my fingers and put my trust in the Honor Series becoming a big enough hit for me to be able to make a living out of freelancing, or that some other paper will hire me after it’s been released. That’s about what I can do.”

  “Freelance?”

  “Yeah. Think I might like that. Would give me more time to work on each piece, but it’s also a lot more insecurity involved. Big perk would be that I could do that from here. Would mean a lot of traveling, I guess, but it could work.”

  “Told you that you need a vacation.”

  “Yeah—vacation,” she laughed. “I have some savings, but they won’t get me that far. So I’m not even sure how long I can keep the house.”

  Mace took a shot. “I could move in. Share the rent.”

  “Would that be the only reason?”

  “No, it’s not. I want to live with you, and I really like the new sofa.”

  “That would keep me going a while longer.”

  “Baby, you’ll probably think this is sexist as fuck, but it’ll keep you going forever. I have money, more than enough, so you just take your time and figure out what you want to do, and how you want to do it.”

  She smiled, stroked his cheek, getting his hair out of the way, and gave him a kiss. He half expected an explosion about her independence, or whatever, but she stayed calm.

  “You can move in, but we’ll share the rent. I’ll make it. I know what I want, and I’m going to get it.”

  “That’s my woman,” he smiled. “A hotshot with a lopsided smile who doesn’t take any shit. Not even from me.”

  “Especially not from you,” she added with a glare. “And it’s not that lopsided.”

  “Sure it is. When you smile, the left side goes up and the right down. It’s so god damn sexy it’s insane. Almost as sexy as your tits and ass.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said and lay back down.

  “Not so bad?”

  “You’re hot as hell, that better?”

  “Best part?”

  “Obviously your cock. It’s perfect, best cock I’ve ever seen. That’s why I love sucking it.”

  “Keep talking like that and you’re gonna have to get down there.”

  “It’s got this vein here,” she said and ran her fingertips along the underside of his dick, “and I can feel it against my tongue when I give you head.”

  He was hard.

  “Sit on my face,” he said.

  “Wrong angle. I won’t feel the vein if I do.”

  “You’ll get more chances, but I want you on my face this time. You can tie me up if you want to.”

  “No. I want your hands on me today. I need to feel you.”

  “Fuck, I love it when you say things like that. Give me a taste.”

  “Just a few things first.”

  He groaned. “What?”

  “I’m not going to start cooking for you.”

  “I know, and I’m still gonna drink, and smoke smokes and pot.”

  “I’ll get caught up in my writing, and I’ll travel a lot.”

  “And we’ll argue, and I’ll say mean shit about feminists.”

  “And I’ll call you a male chauvinist asshole,” she laughed and leaned down to give him a kiss. “But I’ll love you all through that.”

  “Good. I’ll love you, too. I’m hard as a fucking rock babe, don’t keep me waiting.”

  When he felt the warmth of her mouth engulf him, he moaned. It got even better when she straddled his face and lowered down for him to taste her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  That’s My Hotshot

  o0o

  KATHLEEN WAS ON EDGE. More on edge than she could remember ever having been about an article, but there was a lot at stake with this one.

  The full series in six pieces had been sold to a monthly magazine, but the publishing of the five final pieces, and the payment and bonus for those, depended on the reception of the first one. It had forced her to rewrite it, making the first one just a general article about forced marriages and honor killings in the US, and she’d had to cut out one of the murders to make the final five work. It had broken her heart. In a strange way, each of those six girls and women had become like lost friends to her, and she wanted to give them all a voice, but she couldn’t. It had taken her two months to finish the full series, and she truly hoped it would be received well, because she had more articles she was working on it, but how easy it would be for her to sell those depended on the first one.

  The day after the magazine had been released, she got up early and turned on her laptop to check her email, but there was nothing from the editor-in-chief. She couldn’t decide if it was a good or a bad thing, but decided that no news was at least not bad news.

  She managed to maintain that attitude until lunch, when she was about to flip out. That was when the call came.

  “So far, we�
�re getting more reactions on this than anything we’ve seen in the last six months.”

  “Good or bad ones?”

  “Both, of course, but mostly good ones, and the bad ones are from people we like to rile up. It’s provocative in the way we want it.”

  “So?”

  “So, you need to get your ass up here and to sign some contracts and plan the rest of the articles.”

  Kathleen couldn’t recall anything of the rest of the conversation, but she was relieved. She needed that money, and she needed a good piece in a renowned magazine.

  She wanted to tell Mace, but she didn’t want to do it on the phone, so she grabbed her bag on her way out to the car. She hadn’t been to the garage and clubhouse since the party, but she didn’t think it would be a problem for them if she just showed up. According to Mace, she was considered his woman, and she’d be welcome. She hadn’t really tested the idea yet, but this was something she wanted to do eye to eye, and she wanted to do it as soon as possible.

  When she got out of her car, Sisco came walking towards her but without the usual grin on his face.

  “He’s already left,” he said.

  “Okay, where?”

  “The hospice,” Sisco said, as if were obvious. “Didn’t he call you?”

  “No,” she said and pulled her cell out of her pocket. “I’ve been on the phone.”

  He hadn’t tried to call her, though, and she wasn’t sure why.

  “You should head over there. It sounded urgent.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  She got back into her car and turned the ignition, but when she drove off the lot and took the turn that would take her to the hospice, she wasn’t convinced she was doing the right thing. It wasn’t that she’d been on the phone; he hadn’t tried to call her at all, and she didn’t know why. It could be that he wanted to be alone with his mom, and that would mean she was simply intruding instead of supporting by going there.

  She still went there; she trusted he’d let her know if he wanted to be alone. She gave the nurses nods as she passed them. When she carefully opened the door, she noticed Victor, Joyce, and what she assumed was their two sons in there.

  “Hey,” Mace said and stood up to meet her.

  “Hi,” she answered and waited for him by the door. He halted a few steps away. She studied him to get a clue to how he was, and if she’d made a mistake by coming. “How is she?” she finally asked.

  “In a coma.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said and reached out to take his hand. He looked at her hand as if it wasn’t real, and then back up to her face. “Mace?”

  He turned towards his brother and Joyce. “We’ll be back in a while.”

  Before Kathleen knew what was happening, Mace had pulled her out of the room with a firm grip of her hand, and they were racing though the hallways of the hospice.

  “Mace?” she asked again in an attempt to slow him down to ask where they were going and what he was doing. “Honey,” she tried, and he halted. After a few seconds of hesitation, he pulled her into the closest room.

  She closed the door behind them and quickly made sure the room was empty before turning to Mace again. He wasn’t looking at her but at the floor, and his hair was hanging down the sides of his face. She pushed it back and made him look at her.

  “How did you know?” he asked.

  “Sisco told me,” she answered. His face was still completely blank. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No!” he croaked and shook his head. “Stay. Please.”

  “Of course.” She took a step closer and circled his waist. Mace hugged her tightly against him. “Come here,” she mumbled and returned his squeeze.

  They didn’t talk, just stood there, and when she looked up at him, she noticed tears running down his cheeks.

  “Fuck,” he muttered and dried his eyes. “I just needed to get out of there for a second.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “I should’ve called you.”

  She reached up and grabbed ahold of his beard braid. “Listen to me closely.” She waited for him to meet her look. “I’m here for you if you need me, but it’s always up to you. I won’t feel hurt if you want to deal by yourself.”

  “I don’t. I just… I think calling you meant I had to accept. Get what I mean?”

  “I think so.”

  “And I’m glad you’re here. I need you.”

  “Then I’ll be right here until you tell me differently.” She got up on her toes and gave him a kiss. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he said and leaned his forehead against hers.

  “Ready to go back in there?”

  “Yeah.

  Victor, Joyce, and their boys gave her a nod when they reentered the room, but no one talked. Mace sat down on a small love seat, and she sat down next to him. When she reached for his hand, he gave her the tiniest smile.

  She sat quietly and listened to Mace and Victor talking to each other. It seemed civil enough, and it was mostly about Pamela, memories from their childhood, and it was fun to listen to. The two teenage boys filled in on occasion, and Kathleen tried to remember if she’d ever been told their names. She’d known Victor and Kathleen had kids, but Mace hadn’t talked much about them.

  He’d told her more about Joyce, though, and that she’d been his friend, or rather a girl he’d had a crush on, before she’d become Victor’s girlfriend. She assumed Joyce was the main reason for why Mace had never been in a serious relationship. Joyce breaking his heart had obviously meant he’d gotten over his obsession, because he might be talking to them, but he barely looked at Joyce.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he suddenly asked, and when she turned towards him, he stroked her jawline. “Your brain is going a hundred miles an hour.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I know what you look like when that happens.”

  “It was mostly about you, and all good things.”

  “What things?”

  Her phone rang. “Shit. Sorry, I forgot to turn it off.”

  “Saved by the bell.”

  “Excuse me,” Kathleen said and left the room. “Kathleen Keegan.”

  “You worthless piece of white trash. What did I ever do to deserve a child like you?”

  “Hello, Mom,” she answered with a deep sigh. “I hear you’ve read the article.”

  She’d assumed that an article about something as repulsive as feminism would set her mother off, and since it was noon, she’d reached the right level of drunk to give Kathleen a call.

  “I would never read such garbage. Martha called me and told me all about it.” Martha was her mother’s closest friend, and the two of them were active in something that later became the local tea party movement. Kathleen had participated in more than one meeting as a child—always wearing a cute hat with a ribbon. “How could you? Do you ever think about anyone but yourself, you spoiled brat?”

  “No. Not often. Did you have any other reason to call than to tell me how disappointed you are?”

  That had been the only reason for her phone call, and as she started to work up a proper shrieking, Kathleen leaned against the door and logged out.

  About five minutes into the call, it dawned on her that she was standing in the hallway of a hospice. Behind her was a room where two middle-aged men, who had every reason to dislike each other, shared their grief over a mother they both loved with their whole heart, and who in turn had been equally proud of both of them despite their different life choices. In her ear was her own mother, drunk as a skunk, yelling about how Kathleen’s life choice—becoming a reporter—had ruined her life and embarrassed her in front of her friends. Because what could be more embarrassing than having a well educated, feminist daughter?

  The stark contrast between those two extremes made Kathleen inhale deeply before slowly letting the air out. She was a few weeks shy of forty, and she realized that she would never, no matter what she did, gain
the acceptance of her parents. She wasn’t convinced she needed it, but she knew with certainty that she didn’t need her parents, who did their best to make her feel like shit.

  “Mom!”

  “And let me tell you what your father said—”

  “Are you listening?”

  “So you do have something to tell me.”

  “Yes. Don’t ever call me again,” she said and hung up before turning off the phone to make sure her mom couldn’t call her again that day, at least. She’d call again, though. Her mom wasn’t big on taking hints, even if they were spelled out.

  “Was it about the article?” Mace asked when she stepped into the room again.

  “No, it was Mom. She won’t call again.” She took his hand and sat down next to him. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No.” He let go of her hand, put his arm around her shoulders, and tucked her closer to him. “Have you heard anything about the article?”

  “Yes. They’re buying the rest of them, too.”

  He gave her a smile, the first honest one he’d given her, and he looked proud “That’s my hotshot.”

  “Thank you.”

  He leaned closer to her. “Really fucking proud to be able to call you my woman.”

  “Thank you, again. I needed to hear that from someone whose opinion I care about.”

  “You care about my opinion?”

  “Absolutely.” She gave him a kiss. “And I like knowing you’re proud of me.”

  “Really fucking proud.” He lowered his voice. “And I’m glad you’re here.”

  Around five, she went out to get them all something to eat, and she also bought herself the biggest coffee she could find. She hadn’t had enough coffee during the day and was developing a splitting headache.

  There were six of them in the room, not including Pamela. Now and then, a doctor came in and checked on her, but he only offered them short nods. When Kathleen started to yawn, Mace tucked her to his side again.

  “Get some sleep,” he said and gave the top of her head a kiss.

  She fell asleep, and was woken up when Mace stood up.