It’s creepy to have a giant red-headed oaf following you around.
I head straight to him and say, “I need a minute without you up my ass.”
“You have...” He looks at his watch.
“I have however long I fucking need. Give me some space.”
“I don’t think that is your best decision.”
“It’s not your decision to make,” I hiss as I start my march towards the exit. I need a smoke and maybe a hit off the vape.
I smack the door with enthusiasm and burst outside into the chilly wind. I light a smoke and check the time as I pace towards the parking garage. It’s early, only seven when I decide to call Amber. Maybe she isn’t on stage yet.
I let the phone ring and ring until I finally find the Challenger. Jaid brought it to me when she got into town. Of course, with everything else going on, I forgot to ask her where she parked the damn thing. I locate it on the second floor, sitting in two spots. Crooked. I snarl and think of texting her as I end the incessant ringing of Amber’s line.
I plop in the seat and crank on the car because I’m cold and kind of damp. The speaker's boom with rap music as I shake my head with a smirk. “Fucking Jaid.”
Flipping through my phone, I decide to log into the Sibyl site and see if the cameras are working in Amber’s room. Uh huh. Okay, truth be told, I was gravely concerned about her whereabouts, but the last thing I wanted to witness was some schmuck banging my girl. I knew it would happen. I also knew it would make me madder than a bull at a rodeo.
Twist my nuts.
I swipe through all the feeds and find nothing. Her room is empty, well kept, and not out of order in any way. I hit the button to call her again.
“Answer dammit!” I say, leaning back in the seat. I hear the click and expect her to answer, but there is nothing. I call her again. And again. Gripping the steering wheel, I toss my phone into the passenger seat and shout, “Where the fuck are you?”
I turn up the radio loud and back up as I move the car to the top of the parking garage. It’s relatively empty. I sit and chain smoke for a half hour. Jaid texts, but I ignore it.
Everything is fucking out of control.
Yes, all because Amber will not answer the phone. It’s irrational and undoubtedly more than that, but it’s easier to blame the innocent. Ten more minutes pass when my phone lights up with a sexy picture I took of Amber one day at our loft. We had just made love. With her tangled mess of bed hair, she looks ravishing.
“Where are you?”
Exasperated, she flurries, “More importantly, Raniero, where are you?”
“In the parking garage. Your turn.” Tapping my fingers on the headliner, I patiently wait for a response, but all I hear is the clattering of voices and a woman repeatedly coming over an intercom talking about passengers. “… Are you at an airport? For the love of all things holy, please tell me you didn't come to Houston.”
“That's fine. I'll take the next one.” I overhear her say. “Name is Mae Lucas.”
Hearing my name come off her sweet lips, I grin. “What are you doing?”
“Checking in for a flight.”
Flicking my lighter repeatedly, I ask, “Where are you going?”
“Miami…”
“Why the hell are you going to Florida?”
“Thank you,” she says away from the phone. I hear her breath, and while that is enticing, I wish she would answer me.
“Apologies, sorry.”
“Where are you going, Mrs. Lucas?”
“To see an old friend.”
Something about her behavior is off as I say, “You're using a fake name.”
“I didn't want to risk it,” she defends as I feel the vibration in my other phone going off. “You told me I could use it when needed.”
I proudly snarl as I burn a cigarette down. “I wish we could have a repeat of yesterday.” Realizing it was only thirty-six hours ago, I marvel at how the time travels so slow when under stress. “Was so fucking sweet…”
“How about I call you later, and we do…say um, midnight your time?”
“You’re going to wake the monster with talk like that,” I mention, wanting to escape away from it all. “I need you, baby.”
“I know you do,” she softly says. “When things get tough, just think of me on my knees…”
“Fuck…” Her beautiful laughter ripples through the phone. “Not fair! I swear I’m going to beat your ass red when I see you next.”
“Promises, promises.”
“I’m going to promise to make you suffer through hours of excruciating torture underneath my insatiable tongue.”
“That sounds like my kind of torture,” she whimpers wanton. “Oh! Jaid called me looking for you.”
“What?” Panicking, I jerk out of the car and yell, “When?”
“About twenty minutes ago…”
“Dammit! I ignored her message because I was worried about you.” Running to the elevator, I hit the button, but it's taking too long. “Fuck!” I whip open the stairwell doors and grumble, “Hold on.”
Using my arms, I brace against the rails and swing, taking two leaps per flight. I have to get to Kaci. Please God, don't let her be dead. Don't let her be dead because I'm an idiot who needed a half hour to think.
“Sorry about that,” I mumble to Amber as I run across the street. “Did Jaid say anything to you?”
“Not really,” she says, concerned. “Just asked if I knew where you were.”
In the hospital, I zip and dodge around people as I hurry to the cancer unit on the eighth floor. In the privacy of the elevator, I confess, “Please don't let her have died on me…”
“Babe, don’t think like that. I’m going to let you go, we're about to board, and you need to find out what is going on. If it’s bad, call me back immediately. I'll be back in a few days, but if you need me…”
Absentmindedly, I interrupt, “I’ll call you later. I love you, doll face.”
“Hmm,” she gushes, “I love you, too.”
Pushing the button for the automated doors, I dash past Linda, who is talking with Kimmie. Despite her looks-could-kill stare, I wave and smile like nothing is wrong.
Fake it. Play pretend.
I could not guarantee Jaid would have called anyone if Kaci passed. She would sit despondently without a sound for hours. People think she's catatonic or depressed, but the truth is—she's always thinking. And she's still working the problem.
Death of a loved one will stump her fucking mind.
We are such delicate, fragile things. We build ourselves up to be tough, but we aren't. We're driven until our demise.
Pushing the door, I hear the laughter trapped behind the curtain. One is male. It must be Dr. Cho on his nightly rounds, but as I step past the shield, I spot Cristos in a suit. The sight of his smile warms my heart as I want to holler, “Holy shit you came!”
I don’t though, because I’ve done enough foolish things for one day.
“Sal! I was wondering where you were!”
He stands up to greet me as we shake hands and hug. I know this could have been a nightmare, and I've learned my lesson.
If I'm going to be Kaci’s keeper, it's going to be a full-time job. But in Cristos’ arms, I’m reinvigorated as I know everything will be okay. He will care for me, and it will come at a cost, but I’ll worry about paying that debt off later.
“I would love some coffee,” he says, rubbing my arm. “You?”
“Yes, please,” I eagerly say. “The stronger, the better.”
“I’ll join you,” Jaid says as he lifts his hand to take hers. “We’ll be back,” she whispers, passing by me. “You and I need to talk. Later.”
One look in her blue eyes, and it’s clear she knows. She has figured it out that Kaci is her sister. And she is pissed.
Fuck.
“Why the hell did you not tell me?” Kaci unexpectedly says. Arrows are flying at me in every direction, and I’m bound to get hit one wa
y or other. There will be no survivors. And I will be the first to fall.
Touching her toes, I query, “What, honey?”
“That you and Cristos made a deal,” she seethes, gritting her teeth. “You talked about it, but don’t you think you should have told me when it was finalized? What other secrets have you kept from me, asshole?”
Boom. Serve. Back at you.
My wife is fucking insane.
And she is a hell of a teacher.
Lessons learned.
24. Sweltering Tropics
Friday, December 31
1 day before…
After the visit with Jaid and Cristos for several hours, Kaci passed out. I couldn’t say I blamed her as I was pretty exhausted myself. The one good thing to come out of all of it—Cristos put his beautiful, but angry, daughter—Jaid—up in a penthouse suite at a nearby hotel. I relaxed, knowing she would be safe with his men outside the door.
Neither Jaid nor Kaci said a word to me. Kaci was pissed about the peacekeeping treaty with Cristos; Jaid was livid about having a sister she spent four years tonguing out. I understood both and I would be mad at me, too.
An hour late for my private phone call with Amber, I slip out and mention to Kimmie that I need to make a phone call overseas for work.
Lies. Lies. Lies.
She agreed to keep a close eye on our patient…for however long it took for me to get off.
Striding towards the elevator, I understand there will come a day when I must pay for my sins, including this one. I’m the bastard she built; I’m a self-made asshole. I only pray people will save their judgment of me until they walk in my shoes. Kaci isn’t innocent. It takes two to tango and one Raniero to fuck everything up.
The moment the elevator doors close, I call Amber. “Hey…”
“Hey, yourself,” she sleepily says. “You’re late. Is everything okay?”
“Ya, we had company—Jaid and Cristos.”
“Oh, shit…”
My thoughts exactly.
“How was your flight?”
“Good. We made it before the snow.”
“… Snow?” I cringe, grinding my jaw. “In Miami?”
“Fuck,” she says, caught in her lie.
Do. Better. Baby.
“Tell the truth, Amber. Where the fuck are you?” Silence. “Nowala!”
“I’m in Boston.”
Any blood I might have had in my dick rushed to my mind as I’m about to prove how much of a hotheaded Italian I am. “Why the hell are you in Boston?”
“I needed to do something.”
“With who? Where? You know what? Fucking forget it.” I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it as I contemplate hanging up on her, but I can’t.
I need people. I need Amber.
Returning the phone to my ear, I begrudgingly sigh as I tuck into the safety of the chapel.
With a firm tone, she asks, “Shall we try that again?”
“Please be safe,” I mutter as I have to give up some control and trust. I cannot wage war with these men alone, and Amber’s placement is integral. At some point, she is going to do things to assist the mission, and I may not always know those things.
“There was a reason you took me on, Salvatore,” she points out. “If you want out, you better say so now—ala.”
Sitting against the darkened back wall, I snicker. “I don’t want you out. I know you can work a room better than Jaid on your street smarts alone, but I don’t understand why Boston?”
“I’m visiting an old friend,” she excuses. I want to believe her, but I’m not sure I do.
“When will you be back?” I ask before I realize what an old ball and chain I’m sounding like.
She laughs. “Your mistress will be home soon if you should need a private consultation. However, because of the stress you have put in my neck after this conversation, it will cost you double.”
“I’ll make sure it has heated seats and a killer sound system,” I bargain, grinning.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“That’s what I’ve been asking you!”
“Touché, Sal,” she giggles, lighting up our chat. “Are you someplace private?”
“I’m in the chapel at one in the morning.”
“Ohhh, that’s kinky,” she muses.
Cracking my knuckles and neck, I brag, “It won’t be the first time.”
“Hmph,” she hastily contests, “Don’t blow my imagery.”
“I wish you would blow me.”
“So, why don’t you get comfortable and let me talk you through that?”
Sliding down the pew to the corner, I lean against the wall and kick my feet up on the bench. “Go. Go. Go.”
I shift gears with her like a well-oiled machine as her laughter blossoms between us. “Is that a command?”
“Yes, bitch.”
Her moan simmers, “You know how to get me wet?”
“I know how to make you come,” I coax, inching my hand closer to my throbbing cock. “And how to make you want it.”
“Is your dick in your hand?”
“Not yet, no.”
“But I’m there with you,” she seductively suggests. “On the floor. Between your legs. My lips are wet, salivating… Give it to me, babe.”
Jesus, I hate it when she makes me so hard up.
“I’m taking you out and wrapping my fingers around the base of your cock, and I’m going to swallow you whole. You’re going to hit the back of my throat, and my eyes are going to water, and my make-up will run as drool froths around your hard dick.”
“You are going to make a mess out of me.”
“Yes, I am. Slow and easy. Hard and fast. And when you least expect it, I’ll gently cup your sack in my hand and ease a finger back to rub your sweet pucker,” she goads, drawing out every beautiful note. “Are you stroking yourself?”
With my palm on my dick, I say, “What do you think?”
“I think this may be the hottest…”
“Sal,” Cristos interjects, standing in the doorway. He grins as I’m caught red-handed, or at least pre-cum dick-handed. “I wanted to check on you.”
On the phone, Amber whispers, “Is that Cristos?”
“Yes, yes, it is,” I reply, staying in the shadows. He cannot see the absolute embarrassment flaring on my cheeks. “I’m going to let you go.”
“No, no, no…” Cristos contends, approaching slow and waving his hand at me. “Is that the lovely mistress, Amber?”
I reluctantly nod, confessing the affair. He already knew, but actions say a lot more than words. And this one I cannot deny.
“Stay on the phone,” he whispers, stripping off his sport coat. My eyes grow wide as he flops his hand in front of my face and I hand the phone to him. “Talk dirty to him, and I’ll make it worth it, Sal’s mistress.”
I close my eyes, pretending this not about to happen. Kaci tried to warn me that I would need an outlet for my energy or I would fall prey to venomous snakes like Cristos at my weakest moments.
Lesson not learned. Take two—after I come.
For reasons beyond me, the mere idea of having a man of Delarte Cristos’ stature and wealth getting on his knees before me is a massive turn on. I should run, but I’m not going to as I listen to Amber’s breath. “Is he going to suck your dick?”
Anxiously, I reply, “Yes, that is exactly what is about to happen.”
“Close your eyes, Sal,” she says, without a hiccup. I don’t know many girls who could get through this, but Amber Rosen, she takes the punches and throws out her own. This is why I love her. “Don’t think about it.”
While I’m not sure I don’t want to think about it, I listen to her as she guides my mind through the tricky spot. We are teetering on the edge, in danger of capsizing to the rocky surface hundreds of feet below. “We need him, Sal. And you know how these guys play. He – who swallows first – owns your ass. Are your eyes closed?”
“Yes,” I lie as he
smiles at me. I realize who this man is and I know he has enough ammo on him right now to make this place look like a snuff film. His green eyes soothe with a consoling gaze, and I let it happen—the whole thing. His smooth, well-manicured hand slips around the base of my dick as his mouth encases around me. I moan from deep within my gut, “Holy fuck yes…”
In truth, it wouldn’t have mattered who it was.
I should be thankful it was Cristos, and I was already in bed with him—figuratively, at least until now. His technique is versed in giving head. The way he uses his whole mouth—tongue, lips, and teeth—declare this isn’t his first round with the stick. His ample use of saliva is a welcome reprieve from all the dry blow jobs the newbs at Juliet deliver like damn pizzas.
“You must be enjoying it,” Amber guesses as I fall into the motions. “Fall into the feeling. Forget who it is.”
“I am,” I whisper, touching his fingers, laying on my thigh. “Now, touch your clit, baby.”
Her giggle tickles my insides as I smile and think of us at the beach. We are one, connected by Cristos. While that may sound repulsive, I need his fucking investment. And a damn blow job.
With Amber moaning in my ear, I buck my hips into his welcome mouth until I end up shooting my load. Amber comes soon after, crying out my name, “Fuck me, Sal! Fuck me, Sal! God! Don’t stop!”
Cristos sits back and stares with those incredible green eyes. “Consider our deal, done.”
“… All it took was an exchange of spunk?” I ask, jokingly.
With a wide grin, he says, “Don’t be foolish, boy. It has nothing to do with come and everything to do with trust.”
“Where have you been?”
From the chair, I gaze at Kaci in the morning light and merely stare, taking in all that she is—my darling pixie girl. I never planned on falling in love with her when my presence was requested at The Downbelow club, but I did. I couldn’t get enough of her then, and I doubt I ever will. Through it all, she has been there, escorting my ass to a place where I could achieve freedom, but I will only have that if I eliminate my father. Cesario Raniero is my final exam. “I went to sign the deal with Cristos.”
She softly murmurs, “You sold your soul to the devil.”
Vote Then Read: Volume II Page 116