Anything for Her

by Lola StVil

  “You said you needed my help and I helped you. And now you’re blaming me for it?” I snap.

  “I said talk to her. I didn’t say put yourself in front of a bullet. I didn’t think I would need to warn you not to do that, Shay.”

  “Okay, okay, I didn’t follow the script, I’m sorry. But that’s all the more reason why I need to talk to Logan. I can tell him I’m sorry and that I didn’t plan it.”

  “You need to let him go.”

  “He’s pissed off and I need to make it right.”

  “Yeah, you do but not now.”

  “Wyatt, if you say one word about writing down my statement—”

  “It’s not about the damn statement. You need to back off. I know my brother and the fact that he can’t look you in the eye is a very bad sign. He has a lot of anger and nowhere to put it. So, step away and give him some time.”

  “Fine, but I did something good. I was scared to death but I put that aside to help this woman. And you know what, I’m glad I did. And now your brother is pissed at me because I helped,” I reply.

  Wyatt is about to say something but then he bites his lower lip, shakes his head, and goes back to his side of the desk.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Forget it,” Wyatt replies.

  “No, tell me. What’s on your mind? You were about to say something just now,” I push.

  “You think Logan is pissed at you but that’s not it.”

  “Really, because I think at one point I actually saw steam coming out of his ears.”

  “Okay, yeah. He’s really fucking pissed off at you. But that’s not all it was.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “You think anger was the first thing he experienced when he saw you put yourself between Jenny and the bullet meant for her husband? No! When he saw you put yourself in danger the very first thing he thought to do was charge in. I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him and he knew I was right. If we startled Jenny in any way, then she might pull the trigger.

  “So, now he has to watch you standing in front of a loaded gun and there’s nothing he can do about it. Logan realized he might have to watch you die. And that fucking terrified him. Seriously, I have never seen my brother like that. So yeah, he’s pissed off but don’t act like that’s his only go-to emotion because he went through like fifty of them. And yeah, in the end, after he found out you were okay, he ended up being what any guy would be—angry,” Wyatt says, losing his temper for the first time since I’ve known him.

  “I didn’t know you were pissed off at me too.”

  “Hell yeah, I am. If something happened to you…”

  “Wyatt, I’m sorry. I just wanted to help.”

  “Look, I get that. And you did. There’s a woman who might get to go home instead of prison for the rest of her life. But that doesn’t make what you did okay. If something had happened to—”

  “Nothing happened to me.”

  “But if it did, how the hell could I ever face Logan again?”

  I pull out the chair nearest me and plop down on it. I prop my elbows on the desk and hold my head in my hands. The tension in my neck and shoulders pales in comparison to the tightness in my chest. I never wanted to worry Logan. That’s in fact the very opposite of what I meant to do. Yet, it seems to be the only thing I’m good at when it comes to us.

  Fuck my life.

  “Alright, you don’t have to look so sad. I don’t want to be the guy that made his brother’s girl cry,” Wyatt says as he comes around the desk and sits on the edge. He places his hand on my shoulder.

  I laugh ironically. “You think I’m his girl? He couldn’t even stand to look at me.”

  “Here’s the thing. We tend to stay out of each other’s business, my brothers and I. But it’s clear that you two love each other. And while that’s great and everything at the end of the day, you two keep going like this and there will be nothing left to salvage…”

  ***

  Logan (Moments later)

  I march out of the station and hope to God that Wyatt can talk Shay out of following me out. I can’t talk to her right now. I’m not in the talking mood. I’m in the mood to fucking hit something and I can’t think of a better person to be on the receiving end of that hit than the guy I’m going to go see. I get in the car and go to the address that Banshee gave me. It turns out Malone is a creature of habit—he eats lunch at the same place every day around this time.

  I enter the upscale restaurant and right away the hostess looks me over and offers a sports jacket. I tell her that I won’t be long and that I just need to have a quick word with one of her regulars.

  “Oh, and who would that be?” she asks.

  “Malone.”

  “Oh,” she says with stark disapproval.

  “You don’t like him?” I ask.

  “I don’t want to say anything bad about our customers, and if he’s your friend—”

  “Trust me, we’re not friends,” I correct her.

  “Oh, good,” she says as she leans in closer. “He’s kind of a tool. He’s always checking the waitresses out and getting handsy with them. He talks down to everyone. He once made advances to one of the waitresses, and when she turned him down, he tried to choke her. She was gonna file charges but she changed her mind.”

  “What happened to her?” I ask.

  “She moved back to Ohio. She didn’t want to deal with the city anymore. She was a good friend of mine,” she says bitterly as she looks towards the table where Malone is seated, eating his lunch.

  “Sorry about your friend.”

  “Thanks,” she says sadly. I walk into the elaborately decorated dining area and pull up a chair across from Malone. He’s about five nine, blond, with beady, cold eyes and a tailored suit. Every fucking thing about him says arrogant prick. As soon as I take a seat, two brawny, larger-than-life assholes at the next table stand up.

  The first one charges at me. I use my forearms to block him, he goes for my leg, and I grab his head and crank it around, forcing his body to follow. And before he can regain his balance, I kick his leg out from under him. He’s on the ground. His partner goes to charge at me but then realizes that I have his buddy’s Glock; I’m now pointing it into his buddy’s ribs. He has no choice but to stand down—for right now anyway.

  “Is everything okay?” the waitress asks. She can’t see the gun from where she’s standing. I smile back at her.

  “We’re good. My friend here lost his balance but I’ll help him up,” I reply.

  I assure her a few more times and she reluctantly walks away. I make the useless sack of crap stand up. I take the gun from the second guy and signal for them to sit back down at their table.

  “If you goons so much as sneeze, I will shoot your boss’s dick off,” I warn as I take a seat across from Malone. They look to him for guidance as I aim the gun under the table. He wisely signals for them to do as I ask.

  “Let me guess, you’re the guy who came to protect that bitch, Shay,” he says. I kick him hard in the balls; he swears and groans.

  “I’m gonna need you to watch your mouth,” I reply.

  “Fuck you,” he rages.

  “I know guys like you. You think you can get away with anything. Then you meet someone who stands up to you and it throws you off. So, what did your wife do that let you know she wasn’t gonna take your shit anymore? Did she talk back to you? Did she fight back? Ha! I bet that’s it.”

  “Joanne would never raise a hand to me, she knew better,” he sneers.

  “That’s not the way I heard it. I heard she fought like hell in the end and damn near beat your ass.”

  “Yeah but in the end, it wasn’t my head that was crushed, now was it?”

  I glare at him and he smiles back at me. It takes everything in me not to fire the gun I hold in my hand. God, this worthless bastard is really pissing me off.

  “Here’s the thing. You get off on beating the ones who are weaker than you and can’
t defend themselves. But to the mob, that’s exactly what you are—weak and defenseless,” I warn.

  “They won’t have any reason to worry. I’ll take care of that woman, one way or another,” he vows.

  “You should be very nice to Shay because she’s the reason I’m not putting a bullet in your skull today. It would upset her. But don’t you fucking push your luck with me.”

  “Her time is coming. I won’t even have to chase her. She’ll come to me. And when she does, I’ll blow her fucking brains out just like I did my cunt of a wife, Joanne.”

  I reach over the table and grab his tie, ready to strangle him. He silently dares me. It’s all I can do to slowly let go of his tie.

  “You won’t get her so long as I’m alive. You’ll never touch her. And when she testifies, the families will cut you into little pieces and spread you all over the city. They put up with your shit for too long, and now, you’re as good as dead. Enjoy your meal, asshole.”

  ***

  Shay (Present)

  It’s another hour before I see Logan again. He called Wyatt and had him drop me off at the hotel, where he’d be waiting for me. The plan is to pack my stuff and for us to get out of town once and for all. I told Wyatt that he didn’t have to drop me off and that I could get to the hotel by myself. However, he said he had to deliver me in person so that Logan didn’t kill him. He was joking—mostly.

  I’m hoping when Logan opens the door of the suite, he’ll be in a much better mood. Especially since Wyatt told him on the phone that Cash is back in the country safe and sound. However, that is not the case. While the news is a load off Logan’s mind, it doesn’t take away from our situation. And once Wyatt says goodbye, Logan closes the door and greets me with the same pissed-off glare.

  Crap. How am I supposed to fix this?

  “I’m so glad Cash is okay. Do you want to stop by and see him before we take off?” I offer.

  “No,” he says simply.

  “Okay but maybe he’d like to see you,” I reply nervously.

  “I’ll call him when we get on the road. Wyatt’s going over there; he’ll explain it to him. I’m sure Cash will understand,” he mumbles.

  “Alright. Where did you go off to?” I ask.

  “I talked to Malone.”

  “What? Why? What happened?” I ask. He tells me about their meeting.

  “You went there just to piss him off?” I demand.

  “I went to look in his eyes and see exactly who we are dealing with. He’s fucking terrified of what the families might do to him. He has nothing to lose and he has no problem doing what it takes.”

  “We knew that already, why did you really go over there?” I push.

  “Because if he comes after you, I will kill him. I needed him to look in my eyes so he could see just that.” He states it as a matter of fact.

  “That could have been dangerous,” I warn. He laughs mirthlessly as if to say I am the last person who should warn anyone of impending danger. It’s easy to see that he’s still really pissed. I’m not sure if I should let the subject go or confront him. I go into the bedroom and pack. But soon the silence and tension is just too much to take. I walk out into the living room where he’s inspecting his gun. When he sees me, he puts it away and asks if I’m ready to go.

  “Not yet. I was hoping we could talk about what happened this morning,” I reply.

  “We don’t have to talk.”

  “I think we need to, you seem really upset with me. Logan, I didn’t plan on jumping in front of the gun like I did. It just happened.”

  “Great. Got it. Let’s go.”

  “Oh c’mon, Logan. We need to talk about this,” I demand as I step in front of him.

  “Why? What is the point of talking if you’re just gonna do whatever the fuck you want to do?” he barks.

  “That’s not true!”

  “Shay, you don’t give a damn what anyone else says. You do exactly what you want, when you want. And to hell with anyone else,” he accuses.

  “Wyatt wanted me to help and I did.”

  “Bullshit! Wyatt told you to talk. He didn’t say play hero. You could have died. She was unstable and half out of her mind. You stood in the way of her target. That was stupid, reckless, and really fucking selfish.”

  “I was thinking about Jenny.”

  “You weren’t thinking at all!” he rages.

  “Standing before the gun was a mistake but what about the fact that we got Jenny not to shoot? That’s what important. Don’t you get it?”

  “No, that’s not what’s important! The important thing is that everyone stays safe. How the hell could you do that while placing yourself in front of a damn bullet?”

  “I did what had to be done. You would have done the exact same thing!” I remind him.

  “You want to do what I do for a living? Fine, go ahead, get the training and go for it. But until you have that kind of training maybe you should stay away from the barrel of a gun.”

  “You’re being condescending and I don’t appreciate it,” I inform him.

  “I don’t appreciate you freaking me the hell out. I thought that lady was gonna fucking shoot you! Do you get what that did to me?”

  “I can’t just stand aside and let bad things happen, you know that,” I shout.

  “All I know is that you will find some way to put yourself in danger and you don’t give a shit who it affects.”

  “You’re making this about us and it wasn’t. I was the one standing in front of that gun, not you,” I counter.

  “Argh! Are you fucking serious? Why don’t you get it by now? What happens to you happens to me. Why can’t you wrap your head around that?”

  “I have had to watch you face danger all the time.”

  “Shay, that’s different and you know it!”

  “Why, because I’m the woman and you’re the man?”

  “Is that what you think this is? I don’t give a damn about—argh! Fuck this. I can’t do this. I can’t!” he yells as he rakes his hands through his hair.

  “I did not mean to worry you. I went there to do a job and I had to get it done,” I plead.

  “So when you said that you would just talk to Jenny that was a lie?”

  “No, it wasn’t. I did talk to her.”

  “Yeah, I saw that. And any normal person would have let it go at that. But no, not you, Shay, you have to go the extra mile! You have to put every goddamn thing on the line! Nothing else matters unless you get to have things your way.”

  “That is not true.”

  “The hell it isn’t! You make decisions on your own and you act like you are in this alone. For God’s sake, you sent me to the other side of the fucking world so you could deal with an illness alone. Instead of letting me in and letting me help you.”

  “I already said I was sorry for that.”

  “Yeah you did, Shay, and then you said you’d do it again. So, really, what the fuck?”

  “I helped someone today and all you can do is point out what went wrong!” I blast.

  “Oh my god, I can’t believe you don’t get it!” He swears as he kicks the coffee table, causing it to flip over. “You know what, Shay, fuck it. I’ve had enough of this bullshit.”

  “You mean you’ve had enough of me?” I challenge.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

  “So what are you saying, you’re done with me?” I ask.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

  “Okay, I’ll go pack.” I march into the bedroom, hurl everything I own into my suitcase, and storm out of the bedroom. He watches as I make my way towards the door. I turn back to face him. “I don’t need you to protect me. I will be fine on my own!”

  “You do whatever the fuck you want. I don’t give a shit what happens anymore. I’m done,” he declares.

  “Good, I’m glad we are finally done with each other!” I shout.

  “You’re goddamn right we’re done with each other. Go! Go! Get the fuck ou
t of my life!” he demands.

  I grab my suitcase, turn on my heel, and head for the door. Then he yanks me towards him; I collide into his chest. His hungry mouth claims mine, and suddenly, we are swept up in a sea of passionate, possessive kisses that make my insides melt. Each kiss is more and more demanding. I hold on to his face fearing the thought of him pulling away. But he doesn’t back off. He bites my neck and sends a powerful erotic surge whizzing down my body.

  He backs me up against the nearby desk and throws everything that was on it down to the floor. My heart is pounding as he turns me around, grabs a fistful of my hair, and slams my face down onto the cold surface of the table. He pins me down with one hand, and with the other, he hikes up my dress. I can feel his heated stare on my bare ass. I’m exposed and vulnerable.

  He claws at my blue lace panties and slides them down my thighs, past my knees and onto the floor. He nibbles on my bare ass, sending shock waves through me. Just as I start to get used to the sensation, he slaps my ass—hard. I cry out. The sting of the hit combines with the pleasure of his lips on my flesh and makes my pussy pulsate.

  He slaps me again. Again. Again. Tears sting my eyes and I bite my lower lip to keep from screaming out. He kicks my feet further apart and sinks his fingers inside me. He finds I’m soaking wet and throbbing.

  “Jesus, Anika.” He swears under his breath as his fingers play with my swollen clit. I moan and whimper as his fingers send me into a trance. I hear him unbuckle his belt and unzip. He puts the tip of his cock into the opening of my slick folds, and right away, he’s met with resistance.

  “You’re so tight,” he says as he groans with pleasure. He leans over me and repositions my arms so that I am latched on to the side of the table. Before I can truly brace myself, he grabs a handful of my hair, yanks my head back, and embeds his cock into my pussy. The invasion is shocking to my body but it’s also long awaited. He growls in a deep husky voice and says, “Your pussy feels like everything good in the world.”

  He inserts himself with authority and ownership. He wants me to know that my pussy belongs to him. And dear God, it does. He rams into me and begins to thrust. He’s not gentle. He’s a freight train barreling through a tunnel—a tunnel that’s been closed for two years. The tightness is absolute.