by Jay McLean
“But I do.”
“Well, you shouldn’t.” He smiled, his eyes lighting up with the strength of it. He added, “But if it makes you feel any better, I promise to be careful. Besides, I have something important waiting for me at home.” He arched an eyebrow as if waiting for my response.
I had nothing.
Nothing but the numbers in my head.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Tiny banged on the door again. “Nate!”
Nate shouted, “Hang on!” Then to me, “I should get going.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
His grip on my hands loosened as he nodded. “Okay,” he said as if assuring himself that it really was. He started to pull away, but the second his back was turned I grasped his hand, my heart thumping too fast. Too hard.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Then I yanked on his arm, pulling him to me, and I had no idea what I was doing, but I had to do it.
“You all right, Bailey? You don’t look too—”
Before he could finish, my mouth was on his… unmoving. He sucked in a breath, taking mine with it and I pulled back, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment. I covered my face with my hands just as I saw him licking his lips. “Bailey,” he said, removing my hands and pinning me with his gaze. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”
“How long?” I squeaked.
“Too long.”
My eyes closed as he moved in on me. His lips on mine were warm, soft, just like his touches. They were everything I’d expected, everything I’d been afraid to want. He smiled against my lips and pulled away. “Relax, Bailey. I won’t hurt you. I promise.” And at his words, I knew it was true.
He placed his hands gently on my bare thighs, slowly sliding them higher.
I tensed even more, my heart racing, my need building. He didn’t go for my lips this time. No. It was worse. He went for my neck, his mouth opening slightly to suck, lick, and kiss me there. I moaned, my fingers back in his hair, gripping tight while he moved a hand under my shirt and to the small of my back. With my legs around him, I tilted my head back, giving him better access and his mouth moved higher, and higher, until he was on my jaw, closer and closer to where I wanted him. I tilted my head down, brushing my lips against his. “You good?” he whispered.
Whatever sound I must’ve made was answer enough because he pulled me closer until my center was pressed against him. Then he captured my mouth with his, his tongue darting out, running slowly between my lips, begging for access.
I wanted to touch him, kiss him, taste him. I wanted all of it. All of him.
And when his tongue slid against mine, I gave into my wants. My needs. He cursed into my mouth as I pushed myself into him. With both his hands on my waist, his fingers dug into my skin, and I pulled back, gasping for air. He didn’t. He moved to my jaw again, and down to my neck, his tongue leaving a trail of wetness as he moved to my shoulder. He used his teeth to shift the loose collar of my shirt lower, lower. Kissing my chest, he licked, sucked, and then kissed again. His teeth ran softly across my collarbone, and I threw my head back in pleasure, stars flashing behind my closed eyes as I panted his name, over and over while I moved my hands to his firm chest. It was too much, and it wasn’t enough. I didn’t know whether to push him away or to beg him for more. His mouth moved down to the top of my breasts as my hands went to the hem of his shirt, lifting the fabric so I could feel every single dip of his abs, something I’d wanted to do for so damn long.
My back arched, inviting him, and he moaned against my skin, one arm around my waist, the other leaning on the mirror behind me. His hold was firm, safe, as he kept me in place. He thrust into me, just once, but fuck was it—
Bang, bang, bang. “Nate!”
“Fuck off!” Nate shouted back.
I covered his mouth with my hand and shook my head at him, trying to contain my laughter. “Don’t talk to him like that.”
He pulled my hand away and kissed it once before straightening up. Tiny yelled, “What the fuck are you doing? We’re gonna be late. Benny’s already blowing up my phone.”
Nate rolled his eyes. “Hang on!”
“You said that ten minutes ago!”
Nate’s shoulders dropped with his heavy exhale. “I have to go,” he said, kissing me once. “I’ll be back before you need your insulin. I put your vitamins next to your lunch in the fridge. Don’t forget to eat. Have them at the same—”
“I got it.”
I pushed him away and jumped off the counter. Gripping his shoulders, I turned him around and pushed him toward the door. “Go!”
With one hand on the knob, he faced me, his gaze pinning me in place as he leaned forward. He settled his hand on the back of my head and pulled me to him, placing a chaste kiss on my forehead. “It’ll be good, Bailey,” he murmured, his tone distant.
“What will?”
“You and me, bella ragazza.”
*
I paced. I cleaned. I showered. Cleaned. Showered. Cleaned some more. It was by far the slowest day in the history of days. I thought maybe I could sleep, make time tick without me counting down the seconds, so that’s where I found myself, in my bed tossing and turning when I heard the front door open and the familiar beeps of the alarm. I practically jumped out of my skin and out of the bed. I was excited, nervous, anxious… all of it, all at once.
My hand froze on the doorknob as I tried to calm my breathing, tried to settle my pulse.
“Bailey?” Nate shouted.
I didn’t respond; my mind racing with too many thoughts… what if he regretted this morning? What if things became weird? What if he wanted me gone? What if he wanted sex and—
Before I could finish my thought, he knocked on my door and pushed it open, startling a little when he saw me right behind it. And then he smiled—that rare but perfect smile—and I lost my mind and my breath and my heart in his single display of emotion. “Why didn’t you call out when I said your name?” he asked.
“I—”
“I was worried.”
“About what?”
“That maybe you left.”
“I wouldn’t leave.”
“No?”
I shook my head.
“Good.” His gaze flicked to my bed quickly before taking my hands and leading me there. He sat down on the edge and brought me between his legs. The excitement from earlier turned to fear as he settled his head on my stomach and brought my hands to his hair. The warmth of his exhales flooded my belly, inside and out.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said, looking up at me. “I just wanted to come home and feel this.”
“Me playing with your hair?”
He shook his head. “No, Bailey. You. I just wanted to feel you.”
I did my best to stop my grin from splitting my face in two.
He sighed. “Goddamn it, I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” I admitted quietly.
“Come here,” he whispered, gently grasping the back of my neck and pulling me to him. His kisses were slow and devastatingly passionate. He kept our mouths locked as he lay back on the mattress, taking me with him. His hand on my neck moved to my hip, his thumb skimming the skin just above my sweats. I tilted my head to the side and licked his lips, just like he did with mine this morning. He moaned into my mouth and I pulled back, gasping for breath. I kissed his jaw, loving the feel of his stubble stinging my lips. I tried to stay in control of the lust that had been building all day while I moved to his neck—kissing, licking, sucking, biting, just like he did. His hands gripped my waist as he pushed up and into me. I bit down on his shoulder when he did it again. And again. “Fuck, Bailey.”
A dull ache formed in the pit of my stomach, the same one I felt whenever he touched me. His large hands flattened on my back, under my top, holding me in place as he kept on with the tiny thrusts. He was panting, his hands moving lower while
my lips moved higher. He met me half way, covering my mouth with his. No longer slow, our kisses became desperate, and after a moment, he pulled back, his eyes dark, unfocused. He blinked hard before saying, “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Before I could react, his phone went off. “That’s the alarm. You gotta take your meds.” But he made no effort to move.
Through the lust-filled haze in my head, I managed to get out, “I’m sure it can wait a few minutes.”
“Just a few more minutes,” he mumbled, bringing his lips back to mine. His hands moved down my back and to my thighs, lifting me higher on him and drawing them up beneath me. I was straddling his waist, his erection rubbing on my center.
Then I tensed. Flashbacks of the night invaded my mind, and I tried to push them back, but I couldn’t. A knot formed in my throat as I pulled away, looking anywhere but at him.
“Bai?” He’d never called me Bai before, but I couldn’t enjoy the moment. I couldn’t even look at him. Somehow, he knew, because he linked our fingers together and settled them on either side of his head. “Look at me, Bailey.”
Reluctantly, I did as he asked.
He squeezed both my hands. “You’re in control. We do what you want. We stop when you want. Always.”
I kissed him again. Because I couldn’t not. And when I pressed his hands into the bed, he gave in to me. When I cried into his mouth, he kissed me harder. And when my tears fell from my eyes, he kissed them away. The few more minutes we planned turned to twenty. Me on top of him, and him kissing away my pain.
19
Nate
“It’s all there,” I told Franco as he eyed the cash in the gym bag between us. “Minus the 20k from the last batch you screwed us over with.”
“Fuck you,” Louis Franco spat. “There was nothing wrong with that batch.”
Franco—he reminded me of Uncle Benny, not just because he was of Benny’s generation, but also because he was short and stocky, just like all the men in the Franco family. Generations of men failed to do what Quentin Franco had set up. Back in the day, Quentin was the most feared man in Philly. But he was stupid. He deemed his sons next in line instead of his number two. When Quentin had died, there was a bloodbath. Members of his family fought for what was theirs. Dante Franco, Louis’s brother, was one of the reasons I took over my father’s role. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer… all that shit. Fifty years later and it was the same bullshit with their family. Only the Francos’ ranking was lower, matching the quality of their supply.
I said, “It was shit, and you fuckin’ know it. A kid OD’d a couple months back, and I can guarantee if I did enough digging, it would lead back to your supply.”
He scoffed.
I crossed my arms and waited, my mask of perfect calm in place.
“You’re exactly like your fuckin’ father,” he growled, leaning back in his chair.
I sat forward, resting my forearms on the table. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Franco. I’m better than my father, and you know why? Because I fuckin’ respect him. Unlike you. Your pops would be rolling over in his fuckin’ grave if he knew the shit you were pushing.”
His chair scraped back as he stood quickly, fists pounding on the metal table. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he shouted.
“Tiny,” I called over my shoulder. With the calm still in place and my eyes never leaving Franco, I said, “Zip up the bag. Take the cash. We’re done here.”
“I should call Benny. Tell him what an arrogant, cocky little fuck you are.” He spat every single word, emphasizing his hatred. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at me like he had the fucking right.
I arched a single eyebrow. “Go ahead. Call him. I’ll wait.”
He reached for his gun.
I did the same.
But neither of us drew our weapons.
“Take an extra ten out for this bullshit,” I ordered Tiny.
He stepped up to the table and started removing the cash with one hand, the other pointing a gun pointed at Franco, just like Franco’s man had his pointed at me.
Franco shook his head, but he didn’t speak. He’d already conceded when he didn’t touch his gun. I knew it would come to this because I knew Franco. I’d researched the fuck out of him and his family, and that was the difference between the old timers and me. They listened to on-street gossip, I read police and media reports. Believe it or not, the reports were more factual than the shit people liked to whisper about.
“Are you looking to die today?” Tiny asked when we were back in his car.
“No. I’m just looking to get home.”
“That’s the first meet. You have three more before the day is over, plus Benny. Calm your shit, Boss.”
“I am calm,” I told him, even though it was a lie. And the ache in my chest was proof of that.
*
“What the fuck’s gotten into you?” Benny said, his tone clipped as he sat in his usual spot behind his giant desk.
I smiled at PJ standing next to him, his face completely fucked up.
“Nate! You’re going around beating your own men now?”
“PJ tell you why I was there in the first place?”
PJ’s eyes widened slightly as Benny looked up at him. “No.”
“Jerry called us. Told us to get him out of there. He was running his mouth. Dropping my name. Probably even your name. Telling people our business, Uncle Benny. Frankly, I’m a little pissed you found it necessary to call me in. You deal with your side of The Family. I’ll deal with mine. You shouldn’t have to question what I do. I have my reasons for everything, and you should know that by now.”
Benny sighed and rubbed his jaw. “You’re off the clock, PJ. Take some time off.”
I smirked.
“This is fuckin’ bullshit, Don. I didn’t do—”
Benny cut him off. “Give Tiny your phone and your weapons. Nate will call you when he’s ready. Take the time to clear your head, PJ.” He shook his head. “This is my fault. I didn’t take care of things the way I should have when Pauly died. You should have taken some time to deal with his death. He was your best friend, your brother, and now that pain is carrying into your work. It’s a risk. To you, and to The Family.”
I stood up and feigned boredom. “Are we done?”
Benny nodded.
“I’ll wait in the car,” I told Tiny. “Make sure you get everything from PJ. Phone, computer, all of it. And change his online access. He’s blocked while he’s off.”
“You got it, Boss Man.”
*
“You wanna hang out for a bit?” Tiny asked, hitting the code to open my security gate. “It’s been a while since the two of us just kicked back.”
I thought about Bailey waiting for me inside, and then I thought about Tiny and how he’d react to what Bailey and I were doing. I knew he wouldn’t like it, and I knew the reasons why, but he wasn’t me. He wouldn’t understand. “Um…”
“What? You got plans?”
“Nah, man,” I sighed, letting the disappoint settle. “All good.” He pulled up at the front door and stepped out. “Just let yourself in. I’ll be there in a minute. I need to make a call.”
“Alright, Boss.”
On my phone, I pulled up a page I’d saved earlier and called the gourmet, healthy food delivery service. The shit I’d been feeding Bailey wasn’t good enough. Especially given her recent health status.
The line connected just as a horrible squeal filtered out of the house.
I dropped the phone and bolted out of the car and up the steps to the door.
“Bailey!” Tiny shouted.
She screamed louder.
When I finally got to the door, Bailey had my baseball bat in her hands, beating the shit out of Tiny, who was lying on the floor covering his head. He could’ve fought back, could’ve made her stop, but he didn’t.
I shut the door so her screams wouldn’t be heard and wrapped my arms around her waist, lifting
her off the ground and away from Tiny.
“Let me go!” she screamed, swinging the bat anywhere and everywhere.
“Grab the bat,” I told Tiny.
He got to his feet and removed the bat from her hands, the entire time she cried, screamed, and kicked her legs in the air.
“Bailey,” I said in her ear, trying to calm her down. “It’s Nate, okay? I’m here.”
She kicked harder, squirming and trying to pry my arms off her. “Bailey! What happened?”
I looked up at Tiny. “Was she trying to escape?”
“I don’t think so.”
She screamed again, her head shaking from side to side.
“Bailey!”
I brought us both to the floor and held her tight, whispering, “It’s okay,” over and over. Minutes passed before I finally felt her body relax, and then she finally looked up at me, her eyes full of fear. “Nate?” she whispered.
I exhaled a relieved breath and moved the hair from her face. “What happened, Bai?”
Tiny approached with a glass of water and handed it to her. “I think it’s best we let her calm down first.”
She gulped down the water like it was air, her eyes fixed on mine. “You’re okay,” I assured her.
And myself.
She was okay.
My grip on her loosened and I found myself struggling for breath.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, speaking to Tiny. “I thought you were him.”
“Who?” Tiny asked.
“The man who was trying to break in through the back door.”
My heart stopped, and I looked at Tiny.
“When?” I asked her.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she whimpered, “He saw me, Nate. He looked me right in the eyes. He knows I’m alive.”
*
I splashed water on my face and looked in the mirror of my bathroom. Color had drained from my face, and my pulse had spiked, blood rushing feverishly through my veins. I gripped the edge of the sink and rocked back and forth, breathing through the sharp ache in my chest.
Inhale.
Pause.
Exhale.
Pause.