Deacon Johns

by Ciana Stone

  “That’s a lot of money. The news articles said you were killed. What really happened?”

  That night was something Mica tried hard not to think about. She and Tony had been arguing all day. She thought his health was deteriorating and wanted him to go see a specialist. He refused and said he was fine. His father was nearly eighty and still going strong. Tony wasn’t even sixty yet, so he had a lot of good years left.

  Normally, when they had a difference of opinion, she’d back down and let him have it his way. Not this time. She’d seen him stumble too many times, and three times now he’d been very disoriented. She was worried and told him as much as they left the restaurant and took the elevator to the penthouse.

  “Give it a rest, babe.” He sighed and looked over his shoulder at the four men accompanying them, his cousins, the twins, Marco and Angelo and his two bodyguards, Silvano and Vito. “The little lady’s always worrying about me, boys.”

  Murmurs from the men followed, which Mica ignored. They would agree with whatever Tony said. That was their job. But more than that, they loved Tony. She understood. Despite being part of a mob family, Tony wasn’t a bad guy. He didn’t have people killed or their legs broken. He was an intelligent and savvy businessman who knew how to best people without resorting to violence.

  That was one of the things she admired about him. The elevator stopped and opened. Vito and Silvano exited and took a cursory look around. Mica knew it was more for show than actual security. With all of the cameras and surveillance in the place, there was little chance someone would breach security and make it to the penthouse.

  While she went into the bedroom to change, the men settled in the salon for brandy and cigars. She could hear them talking and laughing. Just as she stepped out of her heels, someone grabbed her by the hair on the back of her head and wrenched her around.

  A split second later, she heard the sound of angry voices. “Let go of me!” She dug at the hand gripping her hair and was rewarded with a punch to the kidney that made her legs go weak. Whoever had hold of her shoved her along, into the salon and then pushed her hard enough to send her stumbling.

  As she tumbled to the floor, the babble of voices grew in volume, men shouting and cursing. She started to push herself up when the first shots rang out. Mica screamed as Vito fell right in front of her with a hole the size of her fist in the back of his head. Brain, bone, and blood matted his hair and stained his back.

  She heaved at the sight, flinching as the gunfire continued. Tony was shouting at the attackers to let his men live and take him. He was the one worth something. Just let everyone else go.

  Laughter erupted, along with more shooting and one by one, all his men fell. Then there was silence. Mica crawled over to where Tony sat and cowered at his feet as another man entered the room. Jimmy Vinsanti. She knew him all too well, along with his dirty little secret.

  He was a nasty piece of work, and epitomized the type of man that had given the Mafia their fearful reputation. “So, here we are, Tony boy. The day of reckoning is finally at hand.”

  Tony’s face was set in an expression of such rage that she barely recognized him. Flushed so brightly, he looked ready to have a stroke; spittle flew from his lips. “You fucking dog. How dare you come into my home and—”

  He never finished his sentence. Jimmy pulled a gun and shot Tony twice in the head. Mica screamed, and without thinking jumped to her feet and rushed Jimmy. That’s when she felt a searing pain in the side of her head.

  She didn’t remember anything much after that, except flashes of people around her, the sound of sirens, of lights in her face and doctors. It wasn’t until she regained consciousness that she remembered. Tony was dead and Jimmy had killed him.

  “The police came to see me, but I wouldn’t talk to them. I didn’t know who I could trust. I called one of my clients and the next day someone from the Justice Department came to see me. He offered me a deal. Testify to what happened and in return, he’d make sure everyone thought I’d died, and I could move away and start over.

  “I testified in closed court before a judge and Jimmy Vinsanti went to prison because of it. His family has been trying to find out who was responsible and if they find out, they’ll stop at nothing to locate me and kill me.”

  “So you’re in WITSEC?”

  “In a manner of speaking. I reverted back to my real name, ended the lease in LA, and convinced Matty to move here.”

  “With money you made as a Dominatrix.”

  “Yes, at least, what I could get my hands on. Remember, Cipriana was killed so I couldn’t touch her accounts or property. I had the jewelry I was wearing the night of the shooting and that was worth half a million dollars so I sold it. And I’d sent money to the blacksmith on the reservation to keep and he gave it to me.”

  “How much?”

  “Two million.”

  “You trusted a blacksmith with two million dollars?”

  “Of course. I told you, he cared for me and Matty. He was more a father to us than our own dad. I took half of it. He has the other half. He’s old and needs help, so I helped him get set up in a nice assisted living facility where he’s happy and safe and can live out his life in comfort.”

  “You’re one strange bird, Mica.”

  “Yeah, one strange bird who needs to pack.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you had someone dig into my past, Deacon and now the Vinsantis will be watching everything tied to the Julliani family. If they find out someone is looking for an Indian from the reservation where the Jullinni family made money, then who knows? They might find me and I’m not ready to die. Particularly not the way they’d make me go.”

  Mica stood and walked over to the closet to take down an armload of clothes. “I hate to do this to Matty, but they’d kill him or use him to get to me and I can’t risk that. So, I have to tell him all this and God knows it’s the last thing I wanted to do. You know Matty. He’s the decent one. This will hurt him.”

  She plopped the clothes on the bed. “But I have no choice. Now, you have the truth and I have to go.”

  “No.” Deacon stood.

  “Yes.”

  “No.” He took hold of her arms. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “I told you, I have to. Or do you want to see me dead?”

  “No one is going to hurt you, Mica. Not on my watch.”

  “You don’t know the Vinsantis.”

  “You don’t know the Navy SEALs.”

  Dear God. Here she was, facing what could be certain death from a family she knew to be as cruel as human beings could possibly be and his words opened a gate inside her, releasing such longing it was almost a physical ache.

  “Deacon.” She couldn’t even find the words.

  “You’re not leaving, Mica. We’re not done.”

  “Don’t.” She pushed back from him. “I can’t put anyone in danger. Not Matty, not you. Don’t you get it?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t.” She didn’t have a clue at this point.

  “You’re mine and no one takes what’s mine.”

  There it was. That indefinable something that stripped her of the ability to protest. “Deacon.”

  That’s all she had time to say before he reeled her in. His kiss was fuel to a fire that was ready to explode into an inferno. Deacon kicked her door closed and walked her backward to the bed.

  “Mine,” he said as he ripped the belt open and pulled the robe down off her shoulders. “I’m going to take you, Mica.”

  “I know.” She breathed, and her next breath hitched as his hands moved to her breasts.

  “I can give you pain. If it’s what you want. Or pleasure.”

  “Give me both.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I think so.” She wanted it, but also feared it. Sex with Tony had always been quite vanilla, and while she’d watched her clients writhe in ecstasy over the pain she inflicted, she’d never experienced it herself
. “I don’t know. I just know that I want you and I’ve never wanted a man before you, so in every way that matters, you’re my first.”

  His expression changed and for a moment, she wondered if she’d finally managed to scare him away. Then his lips claimed hers and nothing else mattered.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mica felt a shift of weight on the bed and rolled back, seeking the warmth that was, a moment ago, against her skin. It’d been a long time since she slept in a man’s arms. It was a first to have slept in a man’s arms after having been completed sexually satisfied.

  Last night, the arms that held her made her feel safer than she ever had. She turned completely over and draped one arm and a leg over Deacon’s naked body. Naked. She loved his body. And what he could do with it.

  She felt his lips on her forehead and his hand moving over the skin of her back, stroking lightly. Mica wanted to lose herself in this moment and this man. She wanted to hold onto it and memorize every sight, sound, smell, and sensation. If there was a way to preserve it in its entirety so that she could immerse herself into it at will, she would.

  But that wasn’t possible, and the reality of her life was quickly taking center stage in her attention.

  “I have to tell Matty. We have to go. Today.”

  “I already told you, you’re not going anywhere.”

  Mica sat up, unconcerned that the bedcovers fell away, revealing her nudity. Deacon had seen, touched, and possessed her completely. There was no need for inhibitions now. “Deacon, I know you think—”

  “Darlin’, I don’t think. If I say I can protect you, you can bet on it.”

  “Bet my life?”

  “And mine.”

  She gnawed her lip and thought about it. As yet, there had been no move made against her, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t come. And there was more to think about than just herself. There was Matty, and everyone in Cotton Creek she’d befriended.

  “The Vinsantis are monsters.”

  His smirk annoyed her a bit, as did his comment. “Like your husband’s family is any better?”

  “Maybe they’re not, but Tony wasn’t a monster. And please don’t give me that look. I know who his family is, but he was better than that. There’s a free clinic on the reservation today because of an endowment he made. There are children and women who have roofs over their head in Nevada because of the shelters he set up with endowments to fund them. He might have been from a horrible family, but he was actually a decent man. He beat people with his mind and his abilities, not with sticks and guns. And he actually cared, so please reserve the acrimony and sanctimonious attitude for those more deserving.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  That purely shocked her. “You—you’re not going to argue or—”

  “You knew the man. I didn’t. And if you think he was decent, then I take your word for it.”

  “Well, thank you. But that doesn’t go for the rest of his family.”

  “And you’re afraid of all of them—his family and the Vinsantis?”

  “I am. I told you, they’re monsters.”

  Deacon’s smile was as cold an expression as she’d ever seen. “Lucky for you, SEALs are trained monster killers.”

  “You are, aren’t you?”

  “What?”

  “A killer.”

  “If I have to be.”

  “That scares me a little.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

  “I’m not. But it scares me a little for you. What does it do to a person, having their soul stripped from them so that they can be that kind of killer? Can you just wrap your humanity up and tuck it away until you need it again, or do you just lose it?”

  “Is that what you think we are?”

  “It’s what I fear you are. I don’t know any other way you could do what you do.”

  Deacon nodded. “It’s not something that’s easy to explain.”

  “You don’t have to explain. I know some things are hard to put into words. But it does bring me to the most important question of all.”

  “Which is?”

  “Why would you put yourself in danger, or the possibility of danger, for me?”

  “You know why.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes, you do.”

  Mica nodded. “There are more people than you and I who could be in harm’s way.”

  “Mathias?”

  “Yes.”

  “You do him a disservice, Mica. Mathias may be trying to resolve the different aspects of himself right now, but make no mistake, when the need arises, he’s all SEAL. You’d do well to remember that and give him the respect he deserves.”

  “I didn’t realize I was disrespecting him.”

  “I know, and I don’t think it’s intentional, but you speak about him as if he’s a child when he’s anything but. So, tell him your truths. You might be surprised at how well he handles it.”

  “You seem to have a lot of confidence in him.”

  “I do.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell him.”

  “When?”

  “When we get out of bed.”

  “We’re not ready to get up?”

  “Oh, we’re most definitely ready to get up.” She peeled back the covers and climbed on top of him, straddling his nude form.

  “You’re ready for more?”

  “No, not of what you gave me last night. As exciting as that was, I’m never going to be a woman who is always into that. Pain and pleasure, I understand and even can enjoy, but today, I want something else.”

  “What?”

  “Wet slow kisses that last an hour, a slow, gentle hand, and a man who takes his time and carries me where I want to go. Are you that man, Deacon? The one who can be everything I’ve dreamed of?”

  “What if I am?”

  “Then I’m yours forever.”

  “In that case, I guess I’ll just have to show you, won’t I?”

  “Yes, please.” Mica knew she was delaying, putting off making her confession to Matty and making a decision on what to do, but this thing with Deacon really was what she’d dreamed of. His touch, gentle or rough, excited her in a way she’d never felt before, and when he looked into her eyes and kissed her softly, she felt like a wanderer who’d finally found home.

  Maybe it was too soon, maybe it was wrong and maybe she was making a huge mistake, but she knew it with complete certainty. She was in love with Deacon Johns.

  *****

  Memories of childhood flooded in when Mica got out of Deacon’s truck and saw Matty in the paddock with the horses. She walked over to the fence to watch. Animals loved him, no matter the breed; he had a way about him. At present there were five horses vying for his attention.

  “He’s something, isn’t he?” she asked as Deacon joined her. “People are always shocked at how someone so big and strong can be so gentle and kind.”

  “There’s a lot about Mathias, to admire,” he agreed. “Including his ability to understand. You need to talk to him, Mica.”

  “I know.” An idea occurred to her and she looked up at him. “Would it be possible for us to ride?”

  “Sure, just need to saddle the horses.”

  “They have on bridles.” She grinned and climbed the fence. “Hey, Matty!”

  Mathias turned and smiled. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Hoping we could go for a ride?”

  “With or without saddles?”

  “Without.”

  His smile widened into a grin. “I’ll take this big bay.”

  “Can I have the paint?”

  “Sure.”

  She looked back at Deacon who stood at the fence, waved, then took the bridle of the paint, looped it over her left wrist, grabbed his mane in her left hand, and swung herself up onto its back.

  Matty mounted the big bay in the same fashion and looked at her. “Ready?”

  She grinned and yelled at Deacon. “Open that gate!” Then she kicked the
paint and took off with Matty’s horse in pursuit.

  Deacon watched them race by and smiled. “Wow,” Etta’s voice behind him had him turning his head, but just for a moment.

  “If they had on the right costumes they’d look like something from the past, all that black midnight hair streaming out behind them and them riding like they’re joined somehow with the horses.”

  “It’s something to see,” he agreed and meant it. Mathias could be a warrior of old and Mica, well, Mica was a vision. At least, to his eyes.

  “I take it things are better between you two?”

  Deacon kept his eyes on the riders. “Yep.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s my fault the Marshals were alerted. I take the blame.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s looking to assign blame, Deac.”

  “Nonetheless, it was my investigation that raised the flag. Hopefully only for the Marshals Services and not her enemies.”

  “Does Mathias know?”

  “Not yet. That’s why we came.”

  “Why you—wait, you were with her all night?”

  “Is that really your business?”

  “No, but…”

  “But what?”

  “Well, the way you acted toward her yesterday—it just seems sudden or something.”

  “It’s not.” He turned away to watch the riders. “She got to me the first time I saw her and now…” He paused for a few moments, then looked directly at Etta. “I won’t let anyone hurt her.”

  “Do you think someone will be looking for her?”

  “I hope not.”

  “What does she think?”

  “That’s she’s a danger to everyone—Matty, you. Me. She wants to run. She says we don’t know how bad her enemies are.”

  “To which you said what?”

  “That she doesn’t know the SEALs. We never leave a man behind and we protect our own.”

  “But she isn’t our own, Deac.”

  “She’s mine.”

  Etta blinked in surprise. “She’s…yours?”