by K Larsen
“Strange things?”
“Yeah, that shooting the other night in town.”
Yuri nods his head, “Yes, I heard about that. Unfortunate. The young lad who was shot did a job for me once.”
Candy appears and sets a glass in front of me. “Nice to see you, Mike. How’s Aubry?” A chill runs up my spine. I glance at Yuri. His face gives nothing away.
“Doing better every day,” I say.
“Good. Glad to hear it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I see an old friend.” I look toward Liam and hope he’s prepared to talk to Candy, because, she’s coming for him. Old flames tend to do that as if they can smell your proximity. They hunt you down and trap you in a corner.
“Aubry?” Yuri asks.
I swallow thickly. “A friend in the hospital.”
He cocks his head at me. “The Aubry girl from the news?”
I debate quickly how much to give away. “Yes.”
“I didn’t know you knew her.” His eyes narrow. I shrug. He slides his glass across the table between his hands.
“Any jobs coming up?” I change the subject.
Yuri’s face wrinkles and he licks his lips. “No.”
His answer is atypical. Short and quick. A knee-jerk reaction. No longer friendly and gregarious, he smells distinctly like nervousness. He chugs the remainder of his drink and slides from the booth. “It was good seeing you,” he says. I’m left sitting alone in the booth, fire racing through my veins.
Fuck.
23
Aubry
“Just keep flipping through the book. If you recognize anyone let me know.” Salve’s knee bounces as I stare at picture after picture in his book of crooks. So many faces. Each page of photos, housed in clear plastic sheeting, has twelve pictures. The album is thick.
“What is this? Every perp to ever grace the city?”
Salve snorts. “Basically.”
Determined, I forge on, flipping pages. No one looks familiar. They’re too … blue collar looking or drugged out. I flip to the next page with a sigh. I skim the first row of pictures, then the second and on the third, my breath halts. One of the guards. I know it. That tattoo peeking out from the sleeve of his tee shirt, the scar on his forehead.
“Aubry?” Salve prompts. “You’re shaking.” My head snaps up, eyes catching his. I stab my index finger at the picture.
“He was there. A guard. Or muscle or whatever,” I breathe.
Salves eyes light up as he inspects the picture. “Alexei Popov. That’s good, Aub. Keep going.” He scribbles down the info on his pad. I bite my bottom lip and keep scanning pictures.
I’m nearly to the end of the encyclopedia of crooks when I see him. The man who came the first time. The man who came the last time. The one with the raspy voice and bulbous nose. The ugly man. “Him.” I jab my finger at the picture as unease and dread sprint up my spine.
“Aubry, are you sure?” Salve’s forehead is wrinkled and his face is a mask of concern.
“Yes. Him.”
Salve mutters a curse and then, “That’s Gregor Petrov.”
“Who?”
“Never mind. Okay. What about this man?” Salve points to the picture next to Gregor’s.
The men couldn’t look more different. This one is thin and has an angular face. But they share the same eyes. Even in black and white, those eyes, beady and black, are related. But the skinny man doesn’t spark anything in me.
“No. I don’t recognize that one. Only this one,” I say and point to Gregor again.
Salve makes a face but says, “That’s good, Aub. You did good.” Standing, he tucks his pad into the breast pocket of his vest.
“What now?” I ask.
“Now, I do my job and you do yours,” he says.
His answer irritates me. It’s not good enough. “Which is?”
“To recover. If I need anything else from you, I’ll let you know.”
My jaw drops open. “I’m supposed to just sit and wait?”
“Aubry, you’ve got to let me do my job. I need to investigate and acquire evidence. If I find anything, you’ll be the first to know, but you’ve got to stay out of it. I want you to keep a low profile. Don’t talk to any reporters. Got it?”
I huff and cross my arms over my chest. “Sure. Fine. No talking.”
Mim’s head pops in the room as Salve is leaving, looks like today is just full of torture. My muscles protest before she has a chance to say hello. My body’s tense, coiled, ready to be put to the test.
“How’s the lunatic doing today?” she asks.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I state.
“Grumpy. Good. I can work with that.” She sets the foam roller under her arm in a chair and I send up a silent plea to the universe that she goes easy on me today. Gregor. Alexei. I chant their names in my head through every painful massage of fragile tissue. Through every lift and squat.
I’m coming for you, assholes.
In three days, I can leave. I’m giddy at the thought. Full of pent up energy and anticipation of being freed from this goddamned sterile hospital room. Aimee brought me a bag of chocolate chip muffins after school and of the six, there are only two left. I couldn’t resist. I’m mid bite of the fourth one when my door swings open. An impressive bouquet of flowers obstructs the person carrying them. He peeks out around them and nearly kills me with his pearly white smile. I smile, for the first time in hours feeling like a weight has lifted. He looks at me and I am done. My chest bursts with warmth. If I whisper his name right now, I bet there'd be an actual spark.
Mike.
“Hi, babe,” he says. His voice is low and it causes me to lock my thighs together. His voice has always had that effect on me. Before, when we hung out, I used to rile him up just to keep him talking. Just to hear that deep resonating sound he produces. How cruel the universe is to make me believe I’d had a relationship with him.
“Those are stunning.”
“What?” he laughs, “these old things? I plucked them out of the dirt outside the front doors.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, reverberating off the walls. “Uh huh. Sure. But thank you. They brighten up the whole room.”
“You’re welcome. I feel like you were always harping on me to add a pop of color to my place, figured it was time to take your advice.”
“You actually listened to those tidbits, eh?”
“I always listened to you, Aub.” He sets the flowers down on the window sill. “Got any big plans tonight?”
“You’re hilarious.” I gesture to our location, “What’d you have in mind?”
“Prison shows and takeout?” He raises his brows at me and leans in. He’s wrapping his arms around me in a hug. We stay embraced for a little too long and when he slowly pulls away, our faces are so close that I can nearly taste the mint on his breath. My gaze is fixated on him and I barely remember to breathe. Neither of us chance moving. We’re caught in a moment of potential and it’s clear that Mike feels whatever’s coursing between us as much as I do. I lean my head toward his, just a centimeter. I want to feel his lips against mine again but I’ve broken the trance and he pulls away. I try to school my expression, but I know he caught my pout.
“How’s life in Aubryland?” he asks, skipping over my obvious disappointment. His tone is too, grandiose, too obvious, too everything and it irks me. I straighten the blanket haphazardly lying across my shins.
“Alright, I guess. I looked through Salve’s book of thugs, identified two guys. Aimee brought me these delicious chocolate chip muffins,” I hold up what’s left of my muffin, “and Mim came and tortured me for almost two freakin’ hours.”
Mike squeezes my thigh. “You identified two men? What did Salve say? Did he give you names?”
I lean back against my pillow. Move your hand up. Just six more inches and a couple to the right.
“Yeah. Gregor someone and Alexei.” Staring at the ceiling, I daydream how I’ll make them pay. How I’ll kidnap and tort
ure them. It’s almost comical considering I’m no ninja and I can barely walk myself to the bathroom. I blink a couple times, shake my head and realize Mike is silent. “Mike?”
He’s staring out the window, hands clenched into fists at his sides. A single vein on his forehead pulsing. “Hey. Earth to Mike.” I nudge him with my leg.
His neck whips his head to face me, teeth clenched. I watch as he relaxes everything.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine.” He combs his fingers through his unruly loose curls. The same way he did in the plane. The plane. When he told me…
“You work for them. I remember. You said Gregor and…Yuri. Those names. I remember them from the jungle.”
“Dammit Aub, there was no jungle.” His voice is tight. His entire posture has gone rigid. I’ve hit a nerve. Mike knows these men. He can help me. He can bring me right to them. His tells are all there.
24
Mike
She stares at me with such determination, I know I need to shut this conversation down.
“I remember those names, Mike.” Her voice is firm and insistent.
“Jesus, Aub, I didn’t want to fight with you today. I wanted to surprise you. Bring you flowers to cheer you up. Spend a nice evening together.” I huff, frustrated. Everything for tonight has been ruined. I was going to be all swoon worthy but now the only thing on my mind, again, is fucking Yuri.
“Fine,” she says. I scrunch up my face, agitated but it isn’t enough to stop her. “I didn’t know who was who when I identified them. I recognized them and then Salve told me their names.”
I drop my head into my palms. She’s like a dog with a bone. “Great, so we know who did it. So, what?” I say deflated.
“Now we hurt them.” Her voice is chilling in its calmness.
I snort and say, “Revenge isn’t justice, Aub.”
“It could be,” she says. And she means it. I stay silent. I don’t want her anywhere near those men. I don’t want her to get into trouble. I need her to agree to stay out of it. To let Salve handle it. Even though I have no intention of letting Salve handle anything.
“Well?” she barks.
“What? What do you want from me?” I plead. I’m battling my self-control to try and recoup any part of this night that might be salvageable.
Her eyes widen. Her cheeks tinge red. She’s fired up and angry and about to let loose on me in true Aubry fashion.
“I want you to help me. I want what we had before. You and me as a team. Together. I want to be like we were in the jungle.”
The jungle. If that’s what she wants. Then I’ll give it to her.
“Let me fuck you. Is that what you want?” I snap.
Her gaze is direct and challenging. I watch the movement of her throat as she swallows. Lust is desire gone insane. Nothing comes easy with Aubry and that’s half the attraction. The way she challenges me makes me want to do deliciously depraved things with her. She slaps me. I don’t even know how she got that close, that fast. But my cheek stings like fuck. I touch it with the palm of my hand and smile. She breathes hard and heavy, but she doesn’t do anything else. I reach under her night shirt and slip my hand between her legs. She closes her eyes. A soft moan. One finger presses against her. Her panties are so fucking wet. I kiss her mouth. She kisses me back as I toy with her pussy outside of her panties. This… this is how we communicate best.
I know addiction when see it. And she’s a junkie—for me. Since she’s home, everything about Aubry is more beautiful, even the way she says things. I can smell orange peel on her breath, citrusy and familiar on my neck, as she wraps an arm around me. I move to her neck. I let my lips linger on the lobe of her ear. She is everything I’m not. Salvation and damnation rolled into one. We’re two sides of the same coin, somehow forever bonded.
“Open your legs for me, Aub.” I groan. I can’t control myself. This is wrong. This isn’t the right time or the right place and fuck I haven’t even told her what I need to. She does as she’s told as her head falls, back exposing her throat to me. My heart burns in the fire of her truth. I push away, stand and pace the room. Aubry mewls a broken sound.
“Fuck!” I yell.
“What gives?” Her tone is a mix of breathlessness and anger and I realize she probably thinks I’m rejecting, her when that couldn’t be further from the truth. My whole fucking life my attitude has been DTF, until her.
“You, Aubry. Always you.”
25
Aubry
The clock reads one am. I can’t sleep. I’m still mad at being denied earlier. He stormed out after such an intense, passionate moment. One that still has me worked up and bothered. Being denied an orgasm is like being denied oxygen. The flowers on the window sill mock me with cheer. We were right there, in the moment. And he bailed. Without reason. Or maybe he tried to tell me I’m the reason. What the hell does that even mean? I stretch my limbs and reposition myself in an attempt to get comfortable.
The door slides open quietly, but I’m not asleep so I notice. A chill creeps up my spine. I scoot upright. Who would be coming in at this hour? Fear settles in my belly.
His loose curls give him away, even in the dim light of the room.
Mike, I say with my eyes, what are you doing here? I’m still pissy from before but then he takes off his T-shirt. Drops it on the floor.
His eyes say, fuck me.
And because I want what he wouldn’t give earlier, I find myself a gooey blob of putty. Just when you think love isn't enough, it becomes enough. We do this dance so well that I acquiesce without fight to his silent demand. I lift up my blanket. We don’t need words for this. Mike raises my slender arms and slips my night shirt up and off. I feel exposed, helpless, and strangely aroused.
I gasp when I finally feel his lips make contact with my skin. He starts at my neck, slowly nibbling from my collarbone, up behind my ear, the fleshy lobe, until he reaches my mouth. A hand lovingly slides up and down my arm. I kiss him back with urgency. His lips leave mine. They hover by my ear. His breath puffs out fanning against my skin.
I push up, forcing my body to his. Silently begging for more. He seems to understand my noiseless plea. This physical communication. His hand slides to my breast. A surge of electricity ravages my body. His lips know exactly what they’re doing. He has me drenched in moments. Lips move south. He tickles and kisses my torso inch by inch. Sensations overwhelm me. I want to be able to look in his eyes. I want to see him, really see him. Fingers trail. Thick fingers enter me. His tongue on my clit. Faster, harder, gentle and tender. It’s happening.
Quickly.
The thrust of his fingers, filling me everywhere combined with his teeth nibbling my clit send me soaring over the precipice. I come hard and Mike brings me down gently. Slowing movements, withdrawing fingers, languidly licking. I’m heady with adrenaline. I feel his weight move up until he’s over me, cock hovering, waiting. I grab his shoulders and thrust my hips up. Letting him know how eager I am. He plunges in while sucking on my nipple, tugging on the invisible cord from nipple to my core. One arm denting the mattress by my head, the other weaves its way between us. My body is undulating, moving on its own. My brain is not in control. His fingers find my clit as he grinds into me. His teeth graze my other nipple. I pull his hand from between us. I need to be closer. Chest to chest. He pounds furiously into me and swivels before repeating the movement. As his tempo ticks faster, I wrap my legs around his ass, locking my ankles. My body tenses and another orgasm surges through me. Three more carnal thrusts and Mike grunts like an animal and crashes down atop me. I relish in the weight of his body against mine. Like we’re two halves to the same body.
He rolls off me. I don’t want words right now and he doesn’t offer any up. I rest my head on his chest, an arm over his belly. He snakes an arm around me, the other behind his head.
His chest rises and falls rhythmically and I wonder if he’s asleep already. I decide it doesn’t matter.
�
��When you said I drive you crazy, that I was beautiful, I heard you right? You said those things to me.”
He says nothing but his breathing is off.
“If you have something to tell me Mike, just tell me,” I whisper.
He adjusts until we are face to face.
“This might not be the right time, but there's something about us. I need you more than anything in my life. I want you more than anything in my life. But you deserve to have a relationship start right. Not like this.”
My heart races and I feel flush at his words.
“I love you more than anyone, Mike.” The words are out before I can think better of them. What have I just done?
“Falling in love is not the same as having a relationship. They’re two separate things,” He says. “You deserve the best of both.” His fingers graze my cheek. I close my eyes as his lips connect with my forehead. “And right now is not the right time.”
“What?” I ask but he’s already up. He’s already up! Tugging on his pants. Zipping the zipper and slipping his feet into shoes. Expensive fucking loafers for an expensive motherfucker. “Say it again. Say it and mean it, ‘cause I don’t believe you.” I angrily slap the bed beneath me.
“I’m doing the right thing.” His voice sure as shit doesn’t sound like the ‘right thing’. He lifts my chin as tears drip from my eyes but I refuse to make eye contact with him. I can’t look at him. I won’t.
I jerk my chin from him and claw the sheets to keep from hitting him. “Don’t fucking come back, Mike.”
And just like that he walks out. Walks out—again. I have no control over the tears the flood my cheeks. Blindly reaching out, driven by instinct, I grab the phone and dial Nora.
Waiting for her to answer feels like a slow death. My heart throbs in my chest. Aches.
“How could he?” I breathe out when Nora’s voice sleepily greets me.
“How could he, what?” Nora yawns into the phone. “Are you okay? It’s… really late or early depending on how you…”