Selena's Men

by Elle Boon

  He laughed when she compared her old clunker to the $200,000 machine in front of her. He showed her how there wasn’t really a key, but a push button. After she marveled at the car, he stood back and waited until she familiarized herself and finally pulled off, before he dematerialized.

  Tamara stood in the shadows undetected by Malcolm and his secretary. She smiled at the interaction between the two. When Sharon got into her new car, Tamara hurried around the corner before they spotted her.

  Tamara’s mama was always right, and this time was no exception. Bertha. She nearly laughed her ass off at the disgust in his tone. Her best friend Selena had a way of naming her own vehicles the most absurd names possible too. The first vehicle she was given at the age of sixteen was a shiny silver jeep, which she immediately named Bullet. Why? Of course because it was silver like a bullet, she’d exclaimed. The girl had no imagination. But Tamara loved her.

  Yeah, poor Malcolm was going to have fits with her girl Selena, and she couldn’t wait to see the fireworks those two, or three, if her mama was correct. Her mama always was right.

  She reached in her bag as she walked out of the parking garage, flagging a cab while she walked. “Hola, Chica. Whatcha doin’?”

  Tamara and Selena chatted for a few minutes. Afterward she filled her best friend in on the details of the meeting, minus the parking garage snooping. There was no reason to give her that information, since Selena tended to be a bit of a stickler against what she called bad manners.

  When it came to Selena, Tamara would do everything within her limited power to protect her, even call on her mama. Now, she had real abilities that made the hair on the back of Tamara’s neck stand up.

  If she was right, and Tamara was always right, then before long, her best friend was going to be finding herself between a rock and a hard place. She snickered at her own internal dialogue, causing the cabby to give her strange looks. She gave him her best death stare, the one she often gave her own brothers. He turned back to the road and navigated the busy LA streets.

  She had two more days in California, a yellow two-piece that wanted to be covered in sand, and a holiday that she deserved. Sunny days with the windows open at night on the beach, was just what she needed.

  The dream that kept returning even in her waking hours telling her it would be her last, made it even more imperative she make it count. Yeah, being right all the time sucked major monkey balls.

  So she was taking this time to do just that. Her brand new two-piece bathing suit was going to get covered in sand and ocean water, maybe even some gorgeous man juice. It’d been way too long since she’d let herself be covered in anything man related.

  Up ahead the tiny cottage she’d bought came into view. It’d taken over an hour once they’d left the city to get there, with no neighbors close by. Privacy was key.

  “You all alone out here, little girl?”

  Oh yeah, she knew what the bastard was thinking. “Nope, big guy. My husband is inside waiting for me. Would you like to come in and have a drink?” For the thousandth time she was glad Selena insisted they wore fake wedding rings when they travelled. Of course she had no doubt she could take care of herself, but then she’d have to call the police. Then there’d be a report. Then there’d be a paper trail.

  “Oh…No, I just worried about leaving such a lovely lady out here all alone.”

  Tamara barely stopped the snort from escaping, but the sunglasses hid the eye roll that she couldn’t control. “Oh, that’s very kind of you. Brutus will be very happy to hear humanity still exists.”

  She hated waiting for him to open her door, but as soon as the bastard lifted the handle she gave him a little help with a shove. He stumbled back a step before righting himself. The saccharine smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. At five foot nine and in her five inch heels, she towered over his much shorter frame, giving her the upper hand.

  The ringing of her phone distracted her and him. “Hola. Oh are you on the beach then? Si, I’ll be right down. Just paying the cabby. His name is Carl. Oh yes, he was very friendly. His cab number? Just a second.” Tamara looked at the numbers on the cab. “243. Of course I tipped him well. Geez. Hold on. Thanks Carl.” Tamara gave the cabby the required fee plus tip and walked beside the cottage toward the beach. The sound of tires on gravel as he backed out reached her ears while she continued toward the water.

  She hit end on the fake call she’d initiated with just a touch of a button on her smart phone. “What a complete dick,” she snarled.

  He was not the gorgeous man she planned to let see her yellow bikini. The sand under her feet felt good between her toes, warm and soothing, an ache deep within her soul. Goddess, she was going to miss this.

  Tamara sat on one of the Adirondack chairs that faced the ocean. She remembered the first time she’d seen Selena Ramos. A smile curved her mouth, and she closed her eyes and thought back to the day so many years ago.

  Tamara had gone out to get fresh eggs for her mama. It was early, but the sun was up and it was only around the corner. They’d only been in Texas for a couple of months, having moved from the bayou that Tamara had loved. She still wasn’t sure why her mama wanted them to live there, only that mama Mejia said she’d had a vision. Sometimes Tamara hated her mama’s visions.

  She wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings, just thinking about how she wished she was back home. Not Texas home, but her swamp. She missed the gators, and the people there. Texas was too big, too strange, and the people talked funny.

  At sixteen she was already taller than most of the boys in her class and had already been asked out by half the football team. It seemed football was real big in Texas. The saying everything was bigger in Texas made her laugh. You’d think she’d fit right in, what with her being close to five foot nine. She hated being so tall. Add in the fact she had a big chest and she hated that more. Boys tended to look straight at her boobs instead of at her face.

  She stepped off the curb near an alley that was a shortcut to her house and contemplated taking it, but dismissed the idea. Her mama told her to stay on the streets where people were. Before she could take more than two steps a hand grabbed her from behind and dragged her deep into the alley.

  With one arm wrapped around her waist and one around her mouth she tried to kick out, dropping the grocery bag in the process. She watched in horror as the eggs dropped and broke all over the concrete ground.

  Tamara fought the man holding her, used all the techniques her brothers had shown her. An elbow to his midsection, heel to his shin, but never did they teach her what to do when another man punched you in the face while an extra held you.

  They dragged her behind a dumpster where three other men were waiting. The stench, or maybe the knowledge of what they planned to do, made Tamara gag.

  “Bitch if you throw up on me, I’ll make you lick it up before I make you suck my cock. Do you understand me?”

  Tamara swallowed hard, tears clogging her throat.

  A hand fisted in her hair. One of the men jerked her head backward, demanding she answer the other man.

  She couldn’t get anything to come out of her mouth other than choked sobs. They were going to do whatever they wanted to her, but she’d be damned if she was going to make it easy.

  With renewed strength she started flailing. They obviously weren’t expecting her to fight back.

  A scream that wasn’t hers pierced the air, and made the men freeze in their attack.

  Tamara had never been happier to see an angel in all her life. She had fought as hard as she could but was no match for the men. They had charged her from all sides and gotten her down to the ground, one holding each arm and leg, leaving one man free. He was going to be the first. Just the thought made Tamara wish for death.

  The angel seemed to fly over the garbage can, knocking the men nearest to her in the head with her feet. She spun, lashing out with her hands and feet. Tamara swore sparks flew from the angel’s fingertips. Lying on the c
old, hard ground, she heard the crunch of the men’s bones as they tried to fight the smaller girl. The angel’s long blonde hair was in a braid that whipped around in an arc, looking like a weapon too. A man jumped on her back and Tamara tried to yell out a warning, but the girl merely flung him over her shoulder. There was a loud snap followed by the man’s groan, and then silence as the angel punched him in the throat, cutting off his oxygen.

  The hum of erratic breathing sounded overly loud and Tamara recognized that the young girl was the one doing the heavy breathing. She had backed herself against the brick wall and was covered in blood splatter. She looked about two seconds away from freaking out.

  Tamara scrambled up and righted her clothes as best she could. She went over to where the younger girl was leaning. “Thank you,” Tamara whispered.

  “Are you okay? My name is Selena.” She shook so hard her teeth rattled.

  “I dreamed about an angel who would save me. I just…” Tamara stopped. She wrapped her shirt together. Both of their clothes were completely ruined.

  Tamara smiled at the memory. After she reassured Selena that she hadn’t killed any of the men, she’d taken the younger girl to meet her mama. From that point on they’d been best friends, even though she was three years older than Selena. That day Selena had saved her. Tamara knew it was meant to be that way. She’d dreamt it. But no one could save her this time. She’d dreamt it too. Yeah, it sucked monkey balls always being right.

  Chapter Six

  Selena Ramos couldn’t wait for Redneck Paradise to open its doors here in Kansas City. The Power and Light District was an extremely busy area that didn’t seem to have a down time of year. The seasons went from football to baseball straight into each other and never seemed to lag for customers.

  After holding auditions for every aspect of the bar and hand-picking the employees, they were then put through what she and Tamara called Redneck Hell. During this time they learned the choreographed dances they were all expected to do. These were mandatory, along with the uniforms. In this business it was all about the tips, even though they made a good wage.

  Selena loved her club, loved getting on top of the bar and dancing to the music, and hoped her girls did too. If she or Tamara felt the girls hated their job, or didn’t want to be there, they offered them another position. The whole point of the bar was to have fun, make money, and make sure everyone had a good time.

  She slipped from her car and strolled toward the front door of the club with a beaming smile on her face. Opening day was just around the corner and this would be the first time she’d been inside since it was completed.

  The wind whipped blonde curls about her face, making her shove them aside with an impatient hand. She was almost tempted to cut them off but hated the thought. Her parents had always loved her hair. Even though it had set her apart from the other kids, they’d said it made her special.

  “Yes.” She pumped her fist up and down at the beauty of the club. It was exactly how she’d imagined it. The bar sat center stage like a huge circle, gleaming with the smell of varnished wood and cinnamon. Behind the bar was the dance floor set up like a huge rectangular area, with every other available space filled with booths, tall bar tables, lower tables, and comfy chairs. Their vision was to have a space where you had a choice of where you wanted to sit.

  Although each club had the same name and was similar in design they made adjustments to the surroundings, and this one was no different. With this one they had an upper-level balcony where they had leather couches and tables for a more cozy seating that overlooked the entire bottom level. Her office was also on the upper-level, along with a set of bathrooms for the patrons.

  She walked over to the corner where the DJ booth was. They’d interviewed over a dozen men and women for the position, finally settling on one who came highly recommended. She couldn’t wait for Tamara to get there so they could celebrate, knowing this was going to be the last club they planned to open. Tamara was a full partner who did most of the traveling, while Selena was the hands-on girl.

  Mama Mejia’s voice whispered in her head. “Child, don’t go getting too big for yer britches.” Selena lifted the door and stepped behind the bar to make sure it was fully stocked. The official opening wasn’t until tomorrow, but they were having a pre-opening party for some of the local businesses tonight. All the waitresses had been put through the paces at the other Redneck Paradise locations, but tonight was the trial run for this location.

  Butterflies began a happy dance in her belly, just like always before something important was going to happen in her life. Thankfully it was a wholly different sensation than the feeling of doom, which she usually had…She shook off the negativity.

  She wrapped her hair in a knot and secured it with a pencil before picking up a clipboard, and skipped into the stock room. A smile was firmly on her face as she double-checked the liquor count. She jumped when her pocket began to vibrate and laughed at herself when the song that she had programmed for Tamara began to play.

  “Hola, Tamara.” Selena locked the store room door behind her as she tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear and pocketed the key.

  “Hey there, girl,” Tamara drawled.

  “Tam, it’s perfect. You should see it.”

  “I know, right?”

  Selena laughed at her friend’s reply. “So when are you getting here? All the employees are set to arrive shortly.”

  “Well now, if you would look up, you’d see me standing right in front of you.”

  Selena jerked her eyes up and jumped, dropping the clipboard on the wood floors. She launched herself at Tamara, wrapped arms and legs around her best friend’s waist. “I’ve missed you. When did you get in? Why didn’t you call me?”

  Tamara grunted.

  “Excuse me, am I interrupting something? I can come back after you two finish,” a deep voice rumbled.

  Selena’s boots hit the floor moments before she was shoved behind her friend’s towering form. Tamara had pulled her favorite Glock from wherever she’d had it tucked, and aimed it at the most gorgeous man Selena had ever seen, or tried to see, except her friend kept stepping in front of her.

  “Stop right there.” Tamara said, pointing the gun at his head.

  The man lifted his arms. “I’m Max King.”

  He answered Tamara, but his gaze snared Selena’s. She would swear he looked amused and not the least bit intimidated by the big weapon aimed at his head.

  “Tam, put the gun down. This is…” Selena was amazed how looking into his eyes made the feelings from hearing his voice seem lame in comparison, which was saying a lot. Her heart rate kicked up several notches, and a tingle vibrated throughout her body. She glanced at the front of her chest to see if you could actually see the rapid beat of her heart pounding.

  Tamara shrugged. “I know who it is. Sorry, you startled me.”

  The apology was more of an accusation, but it gave Selena a moment to get her emotions under control. She smiled behind her hand as Tamara still hadn’t shifted from her protective stance.

  With a shove Selena moved around Tamara.

  “Oops, sorry.”

  Selena snorted at Tamara’s words, knowing her friend didn’t feel bad in the least.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. King.” She held her hand out. He gripped her palm in a surprisingly gentle embrace for such a large man. Warmth flew down her arm, centered somewhere down south of her belly button at first contact. The heat turned to a tingle, then a full-out earthquake that only she seemed to be feeling.

  “Hmmm…I believe I told you before to call me Max,” he rumbled.

  His voice added another layer of vibration and his eyes twinkled, for crying out loud. The color was such a brilliant blue they reminded her of the sky. She absently wondered if his brother’s eyes were the same, but gave herself a mental shake. His stare was unnerving her.

  “Y–yes, you did.” Great, now she sounded like a friggin’ twit.


  “So I will call you Selena, and you will call me Max.”

  He turned to Tamara, who still hadn’t put her gun away, but blessedly it was pointed at the ground instead of at the delectable Max.

  “Wow, you guys are like identical,” Tamara blurted out.

  Selena laughed at the outburst. Her hand still engulfed in Max’s, she tried to tug it free. His grip tightened only briefly like he was as reluctant to let her go as she was to be set free. It was like an invisible thread connected them, like a braid missing a piece. She shook her head to clear her mind, then opened her senses to ease into his thoughts.

  A marble wall very similar to one she’d been taught to guard her own mind with shielded his. She settled back without disturbing Max. Years of practice kept him from knowing she’d been there.

  They all turned at the sound of the door buzzer going off. “That would probably be our employees.” Selena looked at the clock.

  Both Max and Tamara had puzzled looks on their faces. Selena made a sound of exasperation and rushed to the door. She placed her hand on the latch, prepared to twist the lock, something she’d done thousands of times, but froze at the sight of the large arm locking around her midsection.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “You didn’t even look to see who it was,” Max snarled.

  “That’s because I know who it is.” She tried to push his arm off, but the man was as unmovable as a concrete wall. “Please let me go,” she gritted out between clenched teeth.

  With a slight twist of his body he gently set Selena on her feet, turned the lock, and pushed the door, putting himself between her and any unseen attack.

  If she weren’t so impressed she’d be irritated. “Grrr, I think I can handle myself, ya know. I’ve been doing it for years.”

  He didn’t answer her. He looked at the line of ladies standing outside before turning back to Selena with a lift of an eyebrow. “Are these your employees?” He quirked that damn eyebrow again before he continued. “Have you ever heard of equal opportunity?”