Some unspoken thought passed across his face. He looked down at his own hand and finally let go, facilitating the tingles that were going to turn into an ugly bruise. “It’s not safe here.”
“Oh? It’s not safe for me, but you can go ‘jogging’ every night?”
He rolled his eyes at my finger quotes. “Can you yell and walk at the same time?”
It was my turn to eye-roll. “Yeah, dipshit. I can chew gum too.”
“Come on. Let’s see if you can think up more nasty names to call me while you’re at it.” Oh, I totally could. He looked to the left again as we started to walk, peering into the darkness as if he had the world’s greatest night vision. “You were following me.”
“I was absolutely not!” Oh, I totally was. Dammit. “I was bored and went for a walk.”
“Your voice gets sexy when you lie. Breathy. Not high-pitched and annoying.”
“It does not!” I breathed. Hmm. He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the alley next to the burned-down China Kitchen. I had a sense of deja vu attempting to knock me on the back of the head with a metaphysical baseball bat. “Where the fuck are we going?”
He glanced behind us. “Shortcut.”
“There is no possible way there is a shortcut to our apartment down a freaking alley, Freddie.”
He turned on me and pushed me up against the brick wall. Holy fuck! Deja vu hurts like a mother. He leaned in so close his breath tickled my nose, and he cupped my face with his hands. It felt like he was going to kiss me, but just when I thought his eyes were going to lower to my mouth like they always did right before the love scenes I adored reading, they darted to the side. Just look at me. “Do you trust me, darling?”
“Fuck no.”
His brows gathered. “Can you trust me for five minutes?”
“Ugh...I guess.” Could I though?
He still wasn’t looking at me. “When I say, ‘Let’s go,’ I want you to follow me farther back into the alley like we’re looking for a quiet place to fuck—”
“Eww.”
“—Don’t make a single sound. Just follow me. Okay?”
“I’m not fucking you, Freddie.”
The expression in his eyes looked hurt as they snapped back to me for a moment before settling back on the street. “One, I didn’t ask. Two, we’re going to come back to this conversation later. Just follow me. Okay?”
Later? “Okay, fine.”
His hands dropped, and he gathered mine in his own, pulling me off the wall and toward the end of the alley. He bit his plump bottom lip and eyed me in a way that made me want to drop my pants. Whomever he was trying to sell this to, I was the one that was buying.
We reached a fence bathed in complete darkness and Freddie looked over my shoulder to the street that was now very far behind me. I turned around to check myself. It was as if we were in a tunnel. The closest source of light felt like it was a mile away. I spun back around to him, suddenly leery. After my eyes adjusted a bit, I could tell, just barely, that he was bent over and pulling up a section of the fence from the corner that was adjacent to the building. “Duck in here,” he whispered.
“Oh, hell no! I am—”
He put a finger from his free hand to his lips. “Shhhh.” He waved me through.
Oh god. Oh god. I finally figured it out. I wasn’t dumb, but curiosity sure made me act that way because, holy fuck, I crawled under that piece of fence into even more darkness. I straightened and found myself between two sections of fencing. The one I’d come through and one that I assumed lined the property directly behind the old restaurant. It made a tiny walkway. I could fit, though each shoulder brushed a fence on each side.
Freddie joined me in the odd area and whispered, “Turn to the side.” I obeyed, and he side-stepped past me. It was the tightest of fits. Every inch of him pressed against me as he slid past, and the friction made me think of so many other things. “Don’t get any ideas. You vowed not to fuck me, remember?”
Before I could protest or contemplate how he knew exactly where my mind was headed, he was already a few feet ahead. His barely-there silhouette reminded me of someone trying to get to the bathroom in a crowed movie theater halfway between an Avengers flick.
“Come on, beautiful.”
I followed him for several minutes until we got to another section of fence that he was holding up for me. He guided me under it with a gentle touch. When I stood straight up, I was in an open area, overgrown with weeds and god knew what else. I recognized the area. This was my view from my tiny bathroom window. I’d never come back here because I figured bugs owned the place. The landlord certainly didn’t make it hospitable for human life.
“What in the holy fuck is this weird shit?” I asked Hammerdick.
“I told you. Shortcut.” He stalked toward the back of the two-flat.
“Shortcut, my ass,” I accused as he headed down a short set of stairs and pulled out his keys to open an outer door.
“Your key to the security door opens this one as well.” He unlocked the door and held it for me to pass through. “Up the stairs and to the left.”
I followed. His directions led me to a wall. “What the hell?”
Freddie leaned into me from behind. I half shook with fear due to the suspicion that I’d just let him walk me into a literal trap. “Feel for a cold spot on the wall.” He grabbed my hand and guided it to a spot on my right, just above my shoulder, where I felt a smooth spot a few degrees colder than the rest of the wall. “It’s a metal plate that’s been painted to blend in. Push.”
As I did, the wall in front of me slid away, and my hallway appeared in front of me. I walked to my apartment door, dragging my jaw along the floor as I went.
“If you’re in trouble, if you think someone is following you and you need to get away, take that route. No one knows about it except for us.”
I looked at him and was sure my eyes were nine times bigger than saucers. No words. I had no words.
“I’m going to kiss you now. Is that okay?”
“Mmhmm.” I think I squeaked.
His mouth landed on mine. Initially, I kept my mouth closed tighter than a politician’s favorite prostitute. I mean, honestly, an hour ago, I was ninety-five percent sure he was a killer who’d bashed me on the head and broke my favorite shoes. Now, I knew he was a psychopath with a secret passage behind the building. And yet his lips were soft, though persistent, and somehow yielding, as if he was showing me what he wanted but giving me several long moments to process it.
In the end, my senses overrode my brain. My nose smelled that familiar scent that couldn’t be named because it was all and only him. An intermingling of fresh and spicy. My hands reached up to feel his chest beneath my palms. His heart beat a million times a minute. His lungs drew in shaky, unsure breaths. I pushed against him and leaned back. My tongue darted out to taste what he’d left on my lips. The essence of him. It tasted like...home. I let my eyes flutter open to see into his. Warm. Safe.
“Again,” I whispered, and he obliged. This time, I opened my mouth to meet his. He growled. I didn’t hear the sound as much as I felt it. It vibrated against my lips and underneath my fingertips, still glued to his chest. It was a grateful purr rather than a sound of dominance. He was thanking me for the gesture, and it made me feel so powerful that this man relished in such a small act of acquiescence from me.
Our lips modestly explored those of the other, but the kiss left the land of timidity the moment I gave in to the demands of my tongue. It wanted to play. Freddie’s mouth welcomed it. His approval was evident as his cock grew against my belly, then he dipped, shifting until our hips met. Our mouths danced to the rhythm he set by grinding into my core, sending exquisite sensation straight up my spine. I’m fairly certain that I gasped his name. His real one. Though Hammerdick was oh so accurate.
Freddie pulled away abruptly and with a slow intake of breath through his teeth. “Tell me to stop.” His intense gaze begged me to say the word.
/> “No.” The word was clear and sure, and before I could question why I wanted him so bad in that moment, he’d pulled my hips forward and slipped his hand into my pants and beneath my panties. “God. Fuck. Yes,” I screamed unabashed as his fingers beelined right to where I needed them most.
“You are so fucking wet, my darling.”
Hearing the dirty words along with the old-fashioned endearment only made what was happening hotter. He held my eyes as he pushed two fingers inside my pussy and pressed against my clit with his thumb, then dove in to capture my mouth, swallowing the gasps he worked from me with deft, expert digits. The build-up was too much. Not just what he was doing to me then, but what had been happening for days. The flirting. The fighting. My own wet dreams still fresh in my memory. I came long before I wanted to. I succumbed to the explosion of feeling within me, closed my eyes, and fell into him.
Freddie held onto me for what felt like an eternity while I came down, panting, from whatever heavens he’d blasted me into. My wits gathered at about the same time that I could stand on my own, and I thought I should do something to reciprocate. That was when I felt soft lips on my forehead and heard a softly spoken, “Good night, beautiful.” By the time it had registered in my still mushy brain, and I opened my eyes, he was halfway up the stairs. He turned back to me and winked as he sucked my cum from his fingers. “It was nice having that conversation with you.”
Oh, I was in sooo much trouble. The image of a big silver robot dancing around in my head appeared as it warned, “Danger, Kiera O’Reilly! Danger!” It was replaced by Whoopi Goldberg with straight hair and a deadpan expression giving me a similar warning. If I could give my heart and loyalty to a man that barely gave me time to blink before he got off, how hard would I fall for one that made me want to throw out the PPPP™ and run up the stairs begging for more?
#SquadGoals
The next morning, I headed out to meet my friends at Supermercado Mas Grande. I was careful to sneak out and not run into Hammerdick. That was not an encounter that I was ready for, especially after the heavy masturbatory session that followed well into the wee hours of the morning.
Jill was already there when I arrived. Seated next to her was Frank. Weird.
“Hey girl,” she greeted me, beaming.
“’Sup,” said Frank.
“Hey, you two. Thank you so much for coming to talk about this.”
Jill scoffed, “One, it has to do with Gina and with you. We’re getting this taken care of one way or another. Two...Tacos, bitch. I already ordered twenty.”
I laughed, both genuinely at her love of the most popular Mexican cuisine and awkwardly at her profession of support. “Well, I’m glad that we can figure it out and feed you at the same time.” I looked around, “Where’s your brother?”
“He got called in for a shift. He’s ditching his partner and taking his break in a few minutes to meet us here.”
I took her hands in mine and looked her in the eye. “Seriously, Jill, thank you. For everything. I know that I haven’t been the greatest friend or the most forthcoming...with anything, but I’m changing. A lot. I promise things will be different.” I turned to Frank but held onto Jill’s hands even tighter. “And I’m so sorry for what I caused to you and your mom and your club.” I reluctantly continued even though he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I—”
“Goddamn. I hope you muthafuckers ordered some food since I’m missing my break for this.” A tall, handsome man with smooth brown skin and a remarkable resemblance to Jillesa plopped down next to me. The ten pounds of police gear he wore dug into me in the close quarters of the small table.
“Hi,” I said, attempting to angle myself to look at him. “You must be Jaqueel.”
“I prefer Jack. I guess twinny over there used my full name because she was mad at me, as usual.” He looked pointedly at her, and then they both simultaneously rolled their eyes at each other in a way that reminded me of a funhouse mirror.
Whoa. Just another new thing I’d learned about a person after actually letting them in. But something about this revelation tickled me. “Umm...you’re twins named Jack and Jill? You two realize how goofy that is right?” Frank snickered beside the female twin.
Jillesa cut her eyes between us both. “Bitch, do you realize how hard it is to get a job as Jillesa and Jaqueel?”
Jack nodded. “The only person that knows my full name is my captain and HR.”
I kind of understood. “People always had a hard time with my real name too.”
The entire table erupted in laughter. “It’s not Becky or anything, but ‘Kayla Smith’ is hardly ethnic.” Jill said between guffaws and tears.
It was the moment of truth. Come clean, reveal who I was, and possibly violate the terms of witness protection. I needed to do this. If I wanted their help and their trust, they needed to know.
“Hey, mami!” I breathed an audible sigh of relief, which was noted with suspicion by Jill. Miguel, my savior, strode toward us in his butcher’s coat, carrying a small package wrapped in brown wax paper and a brown paper bag holding god knew what. He pulled up a chair to the edge of our table.
“Oh. Hell. No. Do not sit down over here with dead animal juice all over you right before I’m about to eat. That’s nasty!” Jill fake gagged to punctuate her point. She was so dramatic.
“No prob, mija. Chill.” He removed the white garment, stiff and stained in a myriad of pinks, reds, and yellows, and draped it over the back of his chair with a flourish that sent a pungent, but not unpleasant, aroma into the air. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply while everyone else plugged their noses or fanned the air in front of them.
“Jordan!” The woman at the counter called.
“You better be glad it takes a lot to ruin my appetite for tacos, butcher boy.” Jill sashayed to the counter and grabbed a tray with four baskets and three condiment bottles. One contained a bright red sauce, one a green sauce, and one a sauce the color of rust—. “Mild,” “Medium,” and “Call An Ambulance.” She brought them over to the table and sat everything down in the middle with paper plates and a mile-high stack of napkins. “Okay, I got carne asada, picadillo, al pastor, and birria. Eat up, y’all. I don’t want to discuss anything on an empty stomach.”
Jill, Frank, and Jack dove into the varieties of tiny wraps with meats, cilantro and onion, squirting globs of the salsas on with each bite. Jack and Jill were the only ones that wanted the hottest of the salsas, and they were fighting over it like rival predators in the wild. I, on the other hand, felt like I was going to be violently ill. I was starving for sure, but something was off about the smell. The meat in particular was wrong. It was...too dead.
Miguel watched me like a hawk, a very perceptive one. So did Jill. “Bitch, you gonna eat or what?”
“Oh, uh...I’m not that hungry.” I grimaced. Lying didn’t always come easy, especially when my stomach had growled loudly four times since I sat down.
“Not hungry, my ass! You look like you need about a hundred of these. Dig in. I didn’t ask you to chip in or anything. Don’t be shy.” She certainly wasn’t as she licked salsa and juice that had run down her wrist.
I shook my head. “I-I’m just...not a huge fan of tacos,” I stammered on the bad excuse.
“Who the fuck doesn’t like tacos?” She screamed loud enough for the other diners and some shoppers in the produce department to turn their heads and give her the stank-eye.
“Well, um...” I began.
Miguel stood up and grabbed his package. “My girl doesn’t like just any old tacos. She has discerning tastes.” He winked at me. “Don’t worry, mami. I’m about to take care of all of your needs.” He headed around the counter and back into the kitchen. As weirdly sexual as that came out, I was grateful for the intervention.
Jill, of course, took the loaded statement and shot me in the face with it. “You did not tell me you were banging the butcher, you ho!”
“I am not!” I could feel the red blooming in my face a
t the accusation.
“Bullshit, sis. Now that fine ass neighbor of yours, I understand. But the barely-out-of-high-school meat cleaver? That’s a...choice, for sure. Which is your side piece?”
“Ugh. Neither, Jill. Not everyone thinks in blow-jobs and orgasms.” Well, lately I kind of had been, but not concerning Miguel, at least.
“Yeah. Uh-huh. Whatever.” She gave me a knowing look. “At least I know why he got invited to this meeting. I thought it was a weird choice until now.”
“You’ve got the wrong idea, Jill. I invited him because he’s into everyone’s business. He sees and hears stuff that no one else does.”
Jack spoke around a mouthful of al pastor. “As much as it does look like she’s giving him the P, she’s right, sis. Miguel knows everything happening in the ‘hood.” He looked around shiftily and leaned in to whisper so that only our table could hear. “I can’t actually say it, but he may or may not be a C.I. for the police. Real criminals should probably watch their backs.” His eyes went directly to Frank as he said it, and Jill threw a tortilla chip across the table at him. Jack smirked at her pointed look. I bet it was a blast growing up in their household.
Frank ignored the exchange and asked me, “So when are you going to tell me who shot my mom?” Jill elbowed him in the side, and he didn’t even flinch.
I felt the hollows of my cheeks heat up with the bright rouge that would demonstrate my nervousness. “Well... I don’t know the person exactly, but I have some info. Let’s wait until Miguel gets back.” I tried to come up with an excuse other than me stalling. “Jill wanted to eat first remember?”
Frank’s eyes narrowed. “Do you not see the taco in that bitch’s mouth?”
My own mouth dropped to the table. There were two uses of the word “bitch” and that was not the right one. I reached to my right to grab a hold of Jack’s clenched fist and attempt to hold it down under the table. Jillesa, the one person I knew would snap like a she-devil, did the exact opposite.
Kiss Me, I'm Undead Page 9