Bossy Burglar: A Hero Club Novel

by A. J. Norris

“I won’t wait long.” Slick pulled a cell phone out of his pants, dialed a number, and handed it to Rico.

  “Hello...yeah, uh, he wants double...I dunno, because you’re not here...okay...okay.” Rico ended the call and gave the phone back. “He’s on his way. Five minutes out.”

  Slick glanced at his watch. “You have five minutes, then the deal is off at any price.”

  The minutes ticked by with Rico pacing and stealing quick glances at the exit point. No one on our crew said a word. Slick and his boys stood mutely as well.

  A black SUV with blackout windows pulled up to the hangar and K-turned. Two men jumped out of the car dressed in all black with assault rifles pointed to the ground. I recognized one of them as Derrick and the other was his cousin, Jerry. My body temperature shot up in a flaring blaze. Sweat broke out on my back.

  The suited men took out their guns—both Sig Sauers, which I knew because my dad owned one that he gave to me before he died. Derrick and his cousin raised their weapons. “Toss the weapons on the floor!” Jerry barked.

  “And if they don’t?” Slick asked.

  “We drop ’em.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Lincoln

  I pulled Nora behind me. Taking out my gun, I was unsure of who the real bad guys were in this situation. Derrick and hothead Jerry came packing semiautomatic assault rifles. Slick-wick and his two goons were only armed with a set of forties. Both sides were criminals by any standard. But which side was more likely to survive a shootout?

  Bandit looked at me sideways and shook his head. He aimed his gun in Slick-wick’s direction. That settled it.

  Slick raised his right hand and covered his heart with the other. “My mistake. I didn’t realize how your employer conducts business.” Derrick lifted the muzzle of his gun. “Okay. Okay. The price we agreed on is fine. I just don’t appreciate being jerked around.”

  One of Slick’s bodyguards shifted his weight and sighed, as if bored or simply impatient.

  “Am I a joke to you?” Derrick asked. “Or maybe you think this isn’t loaded?” He squeezed the trigger, letting off a round on the floor in front of the Gulfstream. Slick and his boys ducked.

  “Jesus Christ! Are you fucking crazy?”

  Someone peered around the plane’s door and pulled back quickly. Another man stood on the other side of the portal with a gun in his hands pointed up. The two were engaged in a nonverbal conversation. The one I could see nodded to the other and leaned out of the plane, shooting Jerry in the head, who crumpled to the floor.

  Nora screamed.

  “Get down!” I shouted at her the moment more shooting began.

  Bandit ran toward me with his head down. He grabbed Nora around the waist. As he tackled her to the floor because there were zero places to take cover, she screamed again. Although, this time, the noise sounded like a howl of pain. So many bullets flew, I couldn’t track who was shooting whom. Had one of the rounds hit her?

  Fuck!

  Derrick shot in the direction of the plane behind the protection of the SUV. Rico had found some semblance of cover behind the crates. Bandit held Nora around the waist and scooted backward toward him, pausing to squeeze off a few rounds. I covered them by firing blindly. I had no idea if I hit anything or anybody.

  The shooting stopped. But for how long?

  I slid on my knees to where Nora lay on her stomach next to Bandit. “Are you hurt?” I said but the answer was obvious. Blood soaked her jeans at the hip. I pressed my hand to the slice that had ripped through the denim. “Nora, are you with us?”

  “Yeah,” she breathed, and flipped her head to the side closest to me. “My hip is burning.” Anguish showed on her face. God, if she died—no, I wasn’t going there. I couldn’t.

  I looked up to check on what was happening. Derrick gave me a stiff nod. “We’re taking the crates.”

  “Well, yeah,” Rico said. His head swiveled, surveying the scene. He turned—

  “Look out!” Derrick shouted as a gunshot rang out.

  Pop!

  Rico threw himself onto the floor, narrowly missing the bullet meant for me. One of the men I had seen in the plane evidently stayed inside when the shooting began.

  Pop! Pop!

  The man tumbled off the top of the stairs, hitting the floor. Someone groaned, possibly him or Slick or one of his boys.

  Tires squealed as the SUV that Derrick came in skidded to a stop mere feet from Nora and me. “Fucking asshole!”

  Derrick jumped out of the driver’s side. “Why the fuck are you sitting there? Load the shit up.”

  “She’s been shot,” I said. “You load it!”

  “Derrick,” Bandit said. “Get back in the truck. We got it.” No one wanted the asshole to pull another Scarface.

  Rico and Bandit loaded the black crates in the SUV. The back seats had been laid down. I picked Nora up and took her around the side of the hangar to Bandit’s vehicle and got into the back seat with her. Seconds later, my partner got behind the wheel and slammed the door. He cranked the engine over and took off toward the break in the fence around the airfield we had come through. I had no idea what happened to Derrick, Rico, and the other SUV. And I didn’t give a shit.

  I kept pressure on Nora’s wound. Fortunately, the bleeding stopped. So, I didn’t think she’d had a bullet hole in her.

  “Am I dying?” she asked. Man, this was the second time she asked me this question. All I could do was stuff the emotions the inquiry dredged up down deep. I couldn’t answer her without wanting to bang my head into a wall. Leaning over her, I peeked at what I could see of the wound through the rip in her pants at the hip. I breathed easier when it appeared the bullet had only grazed her.

  “Looks like the bullet only grazed your hip.”

  “It burns.”

  “I bet it does.”

  “So, I’ll live?”

  I swallowed hard and stared out the window.

  “Where to?” Bandit asked.

  “My place is closest,” I said.

  “She should go to the hospital.”

  “No,” Nora and I said at the same time. Just what I needed—my cover blown. And apparently, she had something to hide, too. I settled in for the forty-minute ride. She laid her head on my thigh as I stroked her hair.

  * * *

  Melanie

  I tensed at every bump in the road. Traveling on the 405 hadn’t been too rough. But when it came to the side streets with all the turns and stops, the fabric of my jeans grated over the wound. Since the bleeding had stopped and the burning sensation turned to a sharp stinging, I decided I wasn’t dying.

  Bandit parked the truck behind Lincoln’s apartment building. He leaned over the front seat. “Need help getting her inside?”

  “I got it. I’ll catch up with you. Later, man.”

  He nodded. “Later.”

  I sat up and opened the door.

  “Do I need to carry you?” Lincoln asked.

  “I don’t think so,” I said, swinging a leg over the side of the seat. Testing my weight on my right foot, I stood, hanging onto the door. Since my knee didn’t buckle and my hip didn’t cry out, I figured walking wasn’t going to be a problem.

  Lincoln came around the rear of the car. “You got it?”

  “Uh-huh.” However, as I began walking, my skin stretched over my hip and my jeans rubbed. Pressing on my hip, I limped toward the garage door that Lincoln lifted open. Thank god. I certainly didn’t want to have to stop moving until I was inside his apartment and hopefully found a comfortable spot on the couch, or preferably his bed, to crash on. He jumped ahead of me and got the door that led to his studio from the garage.

  Hobbling past him, I went inside.

  “We need to clean your wound,” he said.

  “It’s fine. I just need to sit down.”

  “Great. Then you can park your ass in the bathroom while I clean it.”

  I shuffled into the tile room, flipped the toilet lid closed, and eased my ass down. E
xtended my leg and peered at my hip. I couldn’t see much other than blood. Although, fortunately, the dark red stain on my pants hadn’t seemed to worsen on the trip from the car.

  Lincoln came in with a first-aid kit. He set it on the counter and released the catch on the lid. The box opened with a metal-on-metal squeal. “Take your pants off.”

  I gave him a sideways look. “I don’t think this is really the time for that, do you?”

  He shook his head and sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I gotta see the wound to clean it.”

  Fine. “I’m not taking my underwear off.” Although honestly my panties were partially see-through with little slices of watermelons on them. He would get an eyeful anyway.

  “You will if they’re in my way.” Lincoln grabbed a washcloth from the shelf above me and ran it under the faucet.

  Standing on one leg, I peeled my jeans down my thighs and shucked them off my feet. Bending at the waist made me wince. “Ow.” Blood was clotted and smeared all over my hip and the top of my thigh, which was the only thing holding my underwear from falling away. The bikini string had been severed.

  Lincoln got on his knees. “Lean to the left so I can see.” He dabbed at the wound, revealing about a two-inch gash in my hip like someone had taken a wood carving tool and gouged out a strip of my flesh.

  I sucked in air between my teeth. “God, how deep is it?”

  He shrugged. “I’d say you need stitches, but there’s nothing really to stitch.” He wiped away more of the blood.

  I moaned. “Maybe you should just pour water on it.” Or I should get in the shower.

  “All right, sit on the edge of the tub.”

  What is that going to—? Oh.

  He unhooked the detachable showerhead and got the water running and up to temperature. I sat on the edge the tub, hanging my right butt cheek over the lip. I lifted the hem of my shirt and hoodie. I suddenly felt exposed as a cool draft of AC from the vent skated across my skin.

  I gasped when the water ran over the gash. The backside of my underwear slid off my ass. Hell, I might as well take them off completely at this point. However, Lincoln didn’t seem to notice my bare behind. I blushed anyway.

  Once the blood was rinsed away, he grabbed the first-aid box from the counter. After rifling through the contents, he brought out a small bottle of antiseptic spray and gave my hip a couple of spritzes. I braced for some stinging and got some, but then a cooling sensation soothed the wound. “I thought that was going to hurt more.”

  “Nope. It has a little numbing agent in it. Lemme bandage that and go find you a T-shirt to wear. You wouldn’t happen to have brought an extra pair of X-ray panties with you, too?” He smiled.

  I rolled my eyes. “No. Do you have a pair of boxers I could wear?”

  “I thought I was Superman for a second.”

  “You are not right in the head.” If I had something to hit him with, I would have. Well, the first-aid box was sitting there.

  He laid some gauze on my boo-boo. “Hold this.”

  “’Kay. Do you ever say please?”

  “I’m not familiar with the word.” He cut two pieces of medical tape from the dispenser.

  “You could try it out. People might like you better. Please. Please. Ple-ase.” I tried different intonations of the word. “See, it’s only a one-syllable word. Very easy to pronounce.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  Taping the sides of the white pad, his nimble warm fingers brushed against my lower belly. My thighs clenched. His head was close to mine and he looked up at me when he finished taping. His pale blue eyes studied my face. “What?” I said, licking my lips.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three. My birthday is in November.”

  He nodded.

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-eight.”

  “How long were you in the Service?”

  “Four years.”

  “Where were you stationed?”

  “Virginia Beach. Why does this feel like an interview?”

  “Sorry. Can’t I be curious?”

  “Be curious about someone else.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot. You don’t want to get personal.”

  He rose to his full height and left the bathroom, leaving the door wide open.

  I leaned over and pushed the door closed. However, the air caught the panel, keeping it from shutting all the way.

  I stood and my underwear fell to the floor. Damn. They were my favorite pair and now, garbage. Limping over to the sink, I washed my hands and face. He’d done a good job hosing the blood off my leg. My hip was going to be sore for at least a few days. Although, it was feeling a little better now.

  Taking off the hoodie, I started wrapping the sweatshirt around my waist sideways. While the piece of clothing was midair, Lincoln barged into the bathroom. His stare dropped to the bare apex of my thighs. His pupils flared. “Here is—I brought you—I don’t have boxers.”

  “What’s wrong with you? Shut the door.” I tied the sleeves of the hoodie together. The Glock bumped my leg. Shaking his head, he backed out of the bathroom, holding the knob. “Well, it’s a little late now, isn’t it?”

  Emerging out of the tiny, tiled room, I grabbed the clothes he held out.

  “The only thing I could find was an extra-large T-shirt.”

  “Thanks.” I pulled my shirt off over my head. Because screw it, he’d already seen my lower half and I was wearing a bra. Also see-through, it matched my watermelon underwear. He kept his eyes on me.

  Oh, and he didn’t have a shirt on, either. He rubbed the center of his chest.

  Pulling on the T-shirt he gave me, I tugged at the bottom hem. I untied the hoodie and let it fall. The T-shirt covered me to the tops of my legs. “You should probably take me home.”

  “I’m taking a shower.” He stalked to the bathroom.

  I spun on my heel and went after him, determined to be taken home. As soon as I opened the door, I thought better of him knowing where I lived. He was in the process of removing his pants, his navy-blue boxer briefs making a reveal. He faced me and pulled his underwear down.

  CHAPTER 12

  Lincoln

  Nora’s feet stayed glued to the floor while her eyes remained on my chub, which I made no move to cover up. The longer she stared, the harder I grew. “See something you want?” I asked. What in the fuck was I saying? I could not have sex with this woman.

  She pursed her lips. “You know, I’m confused about something.”

  “What’s that?” I asked. Giving her my backside, I turned on the shower.

  “You say that you don’t want to get personal, yet you’re naked as fuck. That’s pretty personal if you ask me.”

  “Well, I didn’t, so...”

  “What’s your deal?” Her voice sounded closer.

  I pivoted and found her inside the bathroom, leaning against the sink vanity. “I don’t have a deal. You undressed in front of me. Fair’s fair. And if you wanted to fuck, you could just ask.”

  “The underwear was not my fault.”

  “Yeah, and what about your shirt coming off? Was that an accident, too?”

  She stood up fully. “I have a bra on.”

  “Barely. Nice tits, by the way.”

  Nora’s face flushed bright red. On that note, I jumped in the shower and pulled the curtain shut.

  * * *

  Melanie

  I stomped out of the bathroom, stormed over to Lincoln’s bed, and sat. My body sagged. It felt like it had been forever since I last sat down. My feet and hip ached. I wasn’t even letting the near-miss enter my brain. I couldn’t go there. I lay back and closed my eyes. Nice tits, by the way. Why yes, thank you, sir. I hated that he made me hot all over with the crass statements he made. If you wanted to fuck, you could just ask. Really? Who asked that? And more importantly, why did that make me instantly wet? My hand wandered over my stomach to my lower abdomen. However, I stopped myself before I took
things any further with myself. Like, really? I was going to touch myself in some stranger’s bed? Okay, at this point, he wasn’t exactly a stranger, except he didn’t even know my real name. And for all I knew, ‘Lincoln’ was an alias, too.

  So then why did I want him?

  The only explanation I could fathom was that I was on a crusade that may get me killed and I wanted to live in the moment because I might not have a future. At least that was what I told myself when I got off the bed. It was also what I told myself when I went into the bathroom. And when I pulled back the shower curtain.

  The metal rings screeeeeched over the metal shower rod.

  Lincoln jolted. “Jesus!” Goosebumps appeared on his skin. “Have you been standing there the whole time?”

  “No.” I narrowed my eyes.

  “Okay. If you’re going to stand there, be useful and hand me a towel.” I pulled one from the rod next to the toilet. Taking the towel, he dried off and wrapped it around his hips. “Did you want something?” He stepped into my personal space and I held my ground. Heat came off him in waves. My body tingled from between my legs to the tips of my breasts.

  “I came in here to ask where you wanted to do this?”

  He leaned toward my ear and whispered, “Do what, Nora?”

  “You said all I had to do was ask, right?”

  “Depends on what you’re asking?”

  “You know what I’m asking.”

  A lopsided smile flashed on his face. “What you’re asking is a bad idea.” He brushed past me into the studio space and I snatched the towel from his waist. His ass was even more spectacular without clothes.

  “So is robbing J-Zen. What’s your point?”

  “It’s a colossally bad idea.”

  “It was your suggestion.” I tossed my hands in the air.

  “I shouldn’t have suggested it.” He walked toward the bed and pulled the covers back.

  I marched over to him and got in his face. “Are you kidding me?”

  “You have no idea how much I wish I wasn’t.”

  “You know what?” I pivoted, flinging my hair, hoping the ends whipped him in the face. “You’re a tease.”