Framed

by C. P. Smith

  Kade thrust once more and then buried himself deep and emptied into my core, a low sexy growl spilling from his mouth. We collapsed to the bed after, and he rolled to keep from squishing me, taking me with him.

  “Jesus, you wear me out,” he mumbled.

  “If you want me to leave you alone, just say so,” I giggled.

  Kade snorted, then rolled back into me. “That’s not gonna happen. You want my cock, all you have to do is ask.”

  “Any time, anywhere?” I asked with shallow breaths.

  “Your wish is my command, princess,” he chuckled in my ear, nibbling on the lobe as I caught my breath.

  “So, about this training . . .” Kade lifted up and looked at me, smiling. “Will you teach me how to shoot a gun?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Damn. I begged my father for years to show me and he won’t.”

  “Smart man,” Kade said, rising up on his elbows.

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  “Babe . . . You’re headstrong and got a temper.”

  “I am not,” I clipped short, pushing him off and rising from the bed to look down at him.

  “You’re pissed right now,” he accurately concluded, chuckling as he rose from the bed. “Proving my point.”

  “What point is that?”

  “You’d shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Damn, he had me there. I would definitely shoot first and ask questions later.

  “Then what are you going to teach me that I can actually use? How to kick a man in the crotch? Believe me, Kade; I already know how to do that.”

  In one swift movement, Kade used his leg to take mine out from underneath me. I landed on the bed face up, caught off guard. My hands raised instinctively to protect myself, but Kade threw a jab between them with his palm up, stopping right before he punched me in the neck.

  “The quickest way to stop a male is to punch him in the Adams Apple then sweep his legs out from under him, giving you time to get away. He won’t be able to speak, or see for that matter, after a hit like that. It will incapacitate him and keep him from calling out for backup, which allows you to get away.”

  A smile broke across my lips. “Can I practice that on you?”

  “I’m the only one you’re allowed to practice with.”

  “Then why is Mickey here?”

  “I need to be able to demonstrate the correct technique. I’ll show you what it’s supposed to look like on D, then you’ll try to use it on me.”

  “So I get to punch you then knock you to your back?” I asked, grinning in anticipation.

  Kade narrowed his eyes at my grinning mouth. “Why does the thought of punching me make you smile?”

  “No reason,” I shrugged.

  Let’s see: you keep me inside like a prisoner, won’t tell me what’s going on, and you leave me out of important meetings with Chapel.

  “Just get dressed in something you can move in,” Kade sighed, not believing for a moment I wouldn’t enjoy causing him pain, “and try to behave yourself.”

  Nodding, I moved to the dresser and pulled out my workout clothes while Kade pulled his shorts back on. Once he was dressed, he started to strip the sheets from the bed per usual.

  We’d been sharing this room for a week now and he always beat me to making the bed each day.

  “Leave it; I’ll get that later,” I mumbled as I searched for clean underwear, watching Kade in the mirror as he worked. He didn’t know I was watching him. If he had, I bet he wouldn’t have rolled his eyes and snorted at my offer.

  Great, he’s one of those men who needed everything in its place just to function. So I don’t make the bed the second I roll out of it, sue me. Not everyone is fastidious. Some of us don’t mind a little clutter.

  Actually, now that I thought about it, I’d driven my dad crazy as a kid with my messes, too. And since Kade is ex-Navy I could foresee this being a problem in the future, as well. Damn the military and their ‘cleanliness is next to God and country’ belief. They ruin perfectly good men who don’t normally clean shit and turn them into organizational zealots.

  “I’ll meet you on the beach,” Kade said when he was done with the bed, kissing the top of my head when he passed. When he was gone, I looked at the military corners and was tempted to jump on the bed just to mess them up.

  Childish, yes, but . . .

  I rolled my own eyes at my foolishness, then took a shower and got dressed in a halter bra of bright pink with black strips running down the side and matching black yoga pants with a matching bright pink strip. I donned my trainers, then pulled my hair up and brushed my teeth. After I’d slathered moisturizer with sun block on my face, I went in search of Kade and Mickey. I found them on the beach talking with two women. Both were blond and sporting teeny tiny bikinis. D smiled as the women flirted. My hackles rose as I started down the steps when one of the women reached out and touched Kade’s tattoo. Kade stepped back out of her reach, but it was too late. I saw red.

  “Hey,” I shouted and all eyes turned to me. “You wanna keep your hands off my chest?”

  Kade rolled his lips between his teeth as I approached, his eyes crinkling at the side.

  He thought I was funny. Whatever.

  The women took one look at my face and spit out, “Later,” then made a fast retreat.

  “Yeah, keep on walking,” I mumbled as they hustled up the beach.

  “Babe,” Kade chuckled.

  “My chest,” I scolded, pointing at said chest.

  “Jesus, you look good enough to eat,” Mickey said as I approached, his eyes raking over my body.

  Before I could respond, he landed on his back, clutching his neck. Kade stood over him scowling, his right hand still extended.

  “And that, gorgeous, is a perfect example of a throat punch,” Kade said still scowling down on Mickey.

  “Would you suggest a foot to the balls right about now?” I teased. Poor Mickey would never learn.

  “In most cases I’d say no, just get the hell out of there. But in this case, you’re more than welcome to practice,” Kade grinned.

  “Tempting,” I chuckled.

  “My bad,” Mickey literally wheezed out. “You have permission to kick my balls.”

  “I’ll pass; but thank you for your offer.”

  “All right, enough fun and games, let’s begin,” Kade said, all business as he reached out and helped Mickey to his feet.

  Such was my life for the next few days. Eat, sleep, learn to protect myself, and try not to go stir crazy. With each day, I grew more frustrated, until one day the damn broke . . .

  ***

  The surf is where I’d always felt at home. Growing up, my friends and I would spend every minute we could on the beach. We always had a boogie board or surfboard in hand, trying to catch a wave big enough to catapult us across the water. It was my haven from the world; it insulated me from shit that had swirled around me over the years. Therefore, it was only natural that I sought solace in the waves from the ever-watchful eyes of Kade and his crew.

  I’d donned my favorite bikini as the boys had another private meeting and announced I was hitting the waves. Of course, that meant they had to move their meeting outside onto the deck so they could keep an eye on me.

  I hadn’t been allowed to leave the house in five days and the constant flux of bodyguards that came and went was wearing thin. No one had seen hide nor hair of the white van or Pirate Roberts near the garage or the beach house. It was as if he’d disappeared. This further irritated my cabin fever because if he’d given up or succumbed to the gunshot wound he’d received, then my house arrest wasn’t needed. Kyle came and went, Kade came and went, even my father came and went, but I was stuck in hiding out of fear that Pirate Man might try to grab me. I couldn’t go to the office, I had to tell the dog shelter I was on hiatus from IDPT until further notice, and none of it sat well with me. Kade didn’t trust me in anyone else’s c
are, so I couldn’t leave the house unless I was with him. A trip to the grocery store now took twice as long because I was so tired of being stuck at his house that I dragged my feet. Picking the perfect tomato could take upwards of ten minutes in my current state. The only bright part of my day was when Kade taught me basic self-defense because I got to hit someone. I could now gouge the eyes out of a man, flatten his Adams Apple, and sweep his legs out from under him like a pro. Well, maybe not a pro, but Prez said he wouldn’t want to piss me off.

  Kade and I were suddenly living together after being on our own for many years and it wasn’t going well. I was laid-back, didn’t sweat the small stuff and he was military precision. I made my bed when I thought about it, but he wanted it done as soon as he rose for the day. I washed dishes when there was enough to be worth my time and he thought the deck should be swabbed daily whether it needed it or not. We hadn’t fought about our differences yet, but with each day that passed the more he sighed and clenched his teeth when he saw what he perceived to be a mess.

  I was stuck with nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs and think. And with time alone to think, those differences became more apparent. They were a big warning sign to proceed with caution; that, or I’d kill him in his sleep.

  For example, this morning when he got up, I made pancakes for all three of us. When we were done eating, I cleared the table and put the dishes in soapy water because syrup needed time to soak before you washed them. When Kade saw I wasn’t going to wash them immediately, he got up without a word and headed for the sink. Now, any other time I might have thought he was being thoughtful since I’d cooked, but the dramatic sigh he let out came through loud and clear. He was annoyed. Problem was, I was annoyed, too. For a whole host of different reasons. So I let him wash the dishes out of spite, then went into the bedroom and messed up the bed he’d just made. No, it wasn’t my finest moment, but everyone reverts to childhood antics when they’re stressed. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. So I kept biting my tongue, as painful as that was, because Kade had just endured two years of hell and it was the least I could do until this nightmare was resolved.

  It was clear, however, we were going to kill each other soon if something didn’t give, I could feel it. We’d had no time to adjust to being a couple, to get to know each other and our habits before being thrown together twenty-four seven. It should have been a gradual progression as opposed to being roommates overnight. The problem was, I didn’t know what to do about it short of morphing my laid-back attitude to fit his military precision, which would only cause more frustration. Something had to give soon before we ended up spewing words we couldn’t take back.

  I was thinking about that as I trudged through the surf, watching Buck and Buttercup frolic on the beach, chasing sand crabs as they darted back inside their holes. For their difference in size, thankfully they got along well and had become fast friends. When I looked towards the deck where The Brute Squad stood sentry, a large wave snuck up on me while my back was turned. It took my feet out from under me, tumbling me roughly in its foamy tide. I stood up to catch my breath, but my hair was covering my face, making it hard to breathe. When I finally cleared my eyes and took a deep breath, I looked up and saw Kade storming from the deck with a towel in hand. It took me about three seconds to realize why. When the wind kicked up and cooled my skin, causing my nipples to pebble, I looked down and realized my top had come off, swept out with the tide. I turned around quickly to shield my body from The Brute Squad, though the fact Kade was approaching meant it was probably too late, only to face what looked like college aged men bobbing in the water about fifty yards away. I’d covered my breasts, but I wasn’t on the small size. I whipped back around wanting that towel Kade had, just as he hit the water and I started laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. I couldn’t help it. My life had become a comedy of errors.

  “Guess everyone got a free show.”

  “Yeah, and then some,” he snapped.

  Wrapping the towel around my shoulders, he clipped out, “No more bikinis from here on out.”

  “Like that will happen,” I scoffed, then made my way towards the shore, tucking the towel around my body like a dress.

  “I’m not kidding,” Kade snapped like a rabid dog, following close on my heels. His tone was intimidating at this point and he was definitely on edge.

  Welcome to club, pal. I’ll meet your edge and raise you one pissed-right-the-hell-off.

  “You don’t honestly think you can tell me what to wear, do you?” I threw over my shoulder as I headed for the house.

  “Dammit, Harley,” Kade hissed, grabbing my arm to turn me around. “You just flashed three men who’d been watching you for an hour and I’m sure D got enough of a look to feed his imagination.”

  “Thank you, Captain Obvious, I know that. But I’m not about to stop wearing a bikini just because you say so.”

  “Then the beach is off limits while you’re here.”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. Full. Fucking. Stop.

  The fuse that ignited my temper lit, and I unleashed all the frustration that had been building for more than a week.

  “I’m sorry?” I asked between my teeth. “I must have misheard you or have water in my ears, because there is no way in hell you just ordered me to stay inside like a child.”

  “You heard me.”

  “Do you have heat stroke?”

  “No.”

  “Are you on medication that alters your thinking?”

  “No,” he returned with veiled hostility and crossing his arms.

  “Then it’s just your arrogance that makes you believe I’ll follow that order?”

  Clearly not feeling the weight of my anger or my incredulousness that he’d ordered me around, Kade leaned down, got right into my face, and then stupidly said, “Get inside and get dressed. We’ll finish this later.”

  “We’ll finish this now,” I retorted.

  “I’m not doin’ this now; I have a killer to catch. Just get inside and stay there so I can fuckin’ think for one damned minute, instead of parading your body in front of the world.”

  Parading my body in front of the world?

  That was it, the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. His sighing I could handle, being left out of the loop I could kinda handle, Kade being mad for no reason I could also handle. All of it at the same time, coupled with being told I had to stay indoors and insulting me? Big fucking mistake. No, colossal mistake.

  My anger went from a slow simmer to epic proportions in a blink of an eye and without thinking, just like Kade had taught me, I swept his legs until he was on his back and I was standing over him. He didn’t move to get up, but stayed on his back as I leaned over him.

  Guess he caught the full weight of his mistake.

  Go inside and stay there? Not in this lifetime.

  “Fine, you want me out of sight and out of mind, you got it,” I replied calmly before turning and marching up the beach towards the house. Prez and Mickey kept their mouths shut as I marched past, though I saw the astonishment on their faces.

  That’s right, keep your mouths shut or I’ll bring a can of whoop-ass down on you, too.

  He wanted me out of sight and out of mind, no problem. It took me all of ten minutes to pack my bag, grab the dogs, and find my keys before I was in my Jeep heading for home. I’d kept expecting he’d storm in and finish the fight, but not once while I was packing had he come inside. No, he just assumed I’d followed his orders like a good little girl and was inside pondering the error of my ways. The big jerk. I hope I’d bruised more than his pride with that take-down.

  It took me twenty minutes to make it back to Milton, a record time, I might add. When I arrived, I ignored my father, unloaded the dogs, and then made my way to my apartment. It took all of thirty seconds before my father came walking through my door, phone at his ear. When he got a look at my face, he told the phone, “I don’t think she’s ready to talk.”

  That�
�s right, now was definitely not a good time to talk to me. The time to talk should have been on the beach when he saw my anger instead of ordering me around. Now was too fucking late.

  Dad hemmed and hawed a few more minutes while I gave him my ‘do not mess with me face’ before he finally hung up. When I raised my brow in question, he cautiously asked, “You wanna talk about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “I take it he screwed up somehow?”

  “I don’t know, Dad, is telling me what I can or cannot do or what I can or cannot wear screwing up?”

  I waited for him to gruff out a reply like “men are idiots" to show his support, but he just stared at me, assessing.

  “You’re fightin’ over clothes?” Dad finally asked in a quiet, lethal voice. A voice, I might add, which stated clearly if I were twelve, I’d be in big trouble. “You’re in a killer’s crosshairs and you ran off from your trained protection over clothes, is that what you’re tellin’ me?”

  Not about to be swayed from my anger, I raised my hand and I ticked off each infraction that I’d endured the past week, so I could aptly defend my actions.

  “I left because he doesn’t keep me informed of what’s going on. He has secret meetings that I’m never invited to and I’m stuck in his house with nothing to do, which is making it worse. We are complete opposites when it comes to organization and we’re moments away from killing each other. Now he’s telling me what to wear and that I can’t go outside. Don’t you see? I’ve switched places with him, Dad. He’s out of prison and now I’m suddenly behind bars and we don’t even know if this guy is still after me.”

  “He’s keeping you safe and that’s all that matters,” he snapped. “All while he’s trying to find this guy so he can clear his name once and for all. It’s not enough he’s been let loose from prison, Harley. Some’ll still think he’s guilty until proven innocent. He’s got a lot on his plate and you run off like a six-year-old, putting your life in danger over being told what to do?”

  “I didn’t run off like a child,” I argued, “I left before we came to blows. Believe you me, Dad, I wanted to hit him, I wanted to yell the house down in frustration, so he is lucky I only swept his legs. I don’t know who’s doing what, when, or for how long. He won’t tell me anything. He pushed me too far today, so I needed some space before it came to blows.”