by K. C. Crowne
"What the fuck did you say to me, you little bitch?"
"Who the hell are you calling a bitch?" I retorted, ready to slap him.
I shoved him in the chest so I could escape the bathroom, but that only made him madder. Out of nowhere, his chubby hand reached out and grabbed my wrist with a force that surprised me.
"You're a real hot piece of ass," he growled. "I think you and me could have a whole lot of fun."
I looked at his hand and saw his sleeve had ridden up to reveal a red dragon tattooed on his forearm.
"Get the hell off me!”
"Or what?"
"Or I'll kick you right in the balls."
He laughed and gripped me tighter.
"You wouldn't dare," he smirked nastily. "Little sluts like you are always playing hard to get, but I know you want me."
"Slut?" I stuttered, shocked he would call me such a foul name.
I slapped him hard across the face, harder than I'd ever hit anyone or anything before. And all hell broke loose. HIs friends ran at me, and the greasy little guy was yelling and screaming at the top of his lungs.
"You fucking slut! You whore!! I'll teach you a lesson!"
His face grew even redder as his nostrils flared like a bull's. I knew the shit was about to hit the fan. Jared and Carly were already jumping down from their stools, ready to save me, and I was grateful for their presence.
"You're coming home with me tonight so I can teach you some manners," he growled, grabbing me and pulling me toward him.
"Get the fuck off me!"
I kicked and punched at him, using all my force to fight him off. Jared joined in, lunging into the middle of the group, but now all the guy's friends were piling in on top, and we were nothing but a mass of tangled, chaotic limbs.
I could hear Carly screaming, could hear the main door to the bar bang open, and the barman yell. But I couldn't see anything but a mass of leather jackets and muscles as my life flashed before my eyes.
"Hey!" A deep rumbling voice yelled over the racket. "Get back! Get back!"
I saw a meaty fist fly through the air and watched it connect with my aggressor’s cheek. He was knocked out quick as a flash and collapsed on the floor as his men reeled back from my mysterious savior.
At first, I couldn't process what was happening, couldn't figure out who had hit him. Then I saw him, his face lit by the dim glow of the orange bar lights.
"Jackson?"
He stood over me and held his hand out to help me up.
"Gabby."
Chapter 4
Jackson
"Boss? Boss? You okay?"
On the floor, Benny Junior came around as his friend patted his face. He stared up at me, confusion on his face turning to anger. He stood, up ready to fight me, but staggered around as though he was drunk.
"Whoa, boss looks like you've got a concussion. Sit down."
"Kill ‘em," he slurred as he pointed at me. "Kill that son of a bitch!"
His friends looked up at me, the nearest one moving his hand down to his waist to the gun resting against his hip.
"Move another inch and I'll blow your fuckin’ head off," I said, pointing to my own gun hanging beneath my arm. "This isn't a fight you want."
They looked at one another before a tall man at the back of the room who had remained quiet and looked as though he was the brains of the group stepped into the crowd.
"Let's not make more of a scene," he said, his voice as rough as sandpaper. Immediately, the men around him pricked their ears up to attention and looked his way. "It’s smarter if we lay low,” he said “Ain't that right, Benny?"
He looked down at his boss, who was swaying from side to side like a drunk toddler.
"So you're the infamous Benny Junior," I announced, looking down at my fist that was starting to turn purple. “It's kinda disappointing. I expected more.” I was poking the bear, but I didn’t care. My hand hurt, though I didn’t show it.
For such a little guy, he had a face as tough as concrete.
"You're damn right I'm Benny Junior," he stammered, staggering toward me. “You'll be seeing me again, asshole.”
"Come on, Boss," the tall guy persuaded. "Let's get you out of here."
He grabbed him by the shoulder and pointed him toward the door where they shuffled out.
"Thank you," a soft voice next to me said.
Gabby stood, obviously shaken, her arms wrapped protectively around herself.
My God she's even more stunning than I remember. How is that even possible?
Her hair was longer than when I'd seen her last, and darker too, and her skin was tanned a deep golden brown. But her eyes…they were the same: big, chocolaty and sensual. They were dusted with dark, smoky makeup that had been slightly smudged in the scuffle, but it only added to her dreamy, sexy allure.
I had to physically stop myself from moving closer and grabbing her to plant a firm, hot kiss on her lips.
"You're welcome," I said. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No, he didn't."
"Asshole," Jared huffed. "That was the Benny Gianni Junior?"
"Who's that?" Gabby asked.
Her voice was just how I remembered it, low with a slight rasp that made my balls heavy with lust.
"He's some Mob boss' kid," Jared told her. "Looks like a real pain in the ass."
"And a small one at that," I replied. "How does a guy that short have an ego so big?"
"Money, power, and a Godfather for a dad will do that to a guy."
Gabby's eyes were on me, but it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. Her arms were still wrapped around her sides, and as I looked down, I saw her foot tapping nervously.
"Are you okay?" I asked. "That was pretty scary stuff."
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure? You want a drink?"
"No, really I'm okay."
"Come on. Just one drink,” I persuaded, smiling. “I haven’t seen you in years. It's the least I can do."
She looked hesitant but nodded.
"Just one," she said, and we walked over to the bar.
"Thank God you're here, Jackson," the barman said. "That Benny is trouble wherever he goes."
"Has he been in here a lot?"
"Every day for the last week. Always flashing the cash and getting into fights, although I've never seen him chase a woman like that before. Guess you're just the lucky one."
"Fan-fucking-tastic," Gabby swore. "I'm thrilled."
She forced a laugh and her eyes met mine. She was still the sassy, sarcastic tough little cookie she’d always been, and suddenly, it felt as though no time had passed since the last time I'd seen her.
"Are you still a rum and coke kinda girl?" I asked her.
"She's more of a margarita woman now," Carly interrupted.
I shot her a look to shut her up, and she laughed and looked away.
"Rum and coke is fine," Gabby answered.
We took one of the booths at the back of the room, and at last, local folk started to filter into the bar in place of mobster assholes.
"Benny Gianni Junior," I explained, my eyes glued to Gabby's face. "His dad was the Benny Gianni. One of the biggest gangsters who ever lived. He lived in New York, but he had a mansion here up in the mountains."
"And apparently he hid treasure there," Jared added.
"Yeah, apparently."
Gabby looked at me as though I was nuts.
"You guys just made that up," she laughed, sipping on her drink.
"I wish we had,” I mumbled, thinking about the problems that would probably arise in the next few days. I decided a change of subject was necessary. “Anyway, enough about him. Tell me how you've been. It's been a long time."
Instinctively, my eyes darted to her ring finger, and I was pleased e there was no sign of a ring or a tan line from one. I was sure my sister would have told me if Gabby had married, but maybe not.
"Gabby's just become single," Carly sang. "Found her last boyfriend gett
ing nasty in the bathroom with a bartender. Can you believe that? The asshole. I'd have killed him where he stood."
"You're kidding me," I said. "What a douchebag."
"That's literally what I kept saying," Carly squealed.
I shook my head in disbelief. Someone had cheated on Gabby? Was the idiot insane? Did he not realize how lucky he was to have her? The thought made me want to track the guy down and throttle the life out of him.
Beneath the table, I felt something bump into my leg and looked down. Gabby’s knee had grazed mine. She blushed and pulled away apologetically.
"So, " I said, feeling the nerves return to my stomach. "Was this recently?"
"Last night," Gabby mumbled.
"You’re shitting me?"
"Nope. Not shitting you."
She shook herself and shivered.
"I think that image will haunt my nightmares."
I chuckled and shook my head. “Well, it sounds like you’re better off without him.”
She nodded but didn’t meet my eye.
“You still running?” I asked.
She smiled and looked into her drink. I was aware of Carly and Jared looking intently at us, trying to see what we would do next. Carly was giving me one of her annoying signature looks, the one that told me she could see inside my head.
"I'm not quite the track star anymore," Gabby said with a laugh. "But I still train for the Denver marathon every year."
"The marathon? That's awesome."
"Yeah, I have this pipe dream of owning my own gym someday and having an outdoor sporting goods store, you know, selling ski equipment and all that stuff."
"Wow. That’s pretty ambitious.”
Again, I could feel Jared and Carly's penetrating stares burning a hole in the side of my head. I turned to my sister and pinned her with a look.
"Hey Carly, wanna go play a tune on the jukebox?"
"Not really."
I stared at her, willing her to take the hint.
"Fine," she sighed, sliding out her seat. "Any requests?"
"Something upbeat and take your time."
Now I needed to get rid of Jared.
"Anyway, this mobster," Gabby said, returning to a subject best closed. "Are you working with him?"
"Working against," I explained. "We're supposed to be keeping an eye on him."
"Nothing we can't handle," Jared boasted. "Well, nothing Jackson can't handle. He once wrestled a burning terrorist with his bare hands."
"Shut up," Gabby gasped. "Are you serious?"
"It's true," Jared assured her, nodding. "The guy set himself on fire and was going to run straight into our camp. Jackson flung himself at him, totally fearless, and tackled him to the ground."
"It was just stupidity," I said, remembering the day. "I had no idea he had all those explosives taped to his waist ready to go off at any second."
"Stop being so modest. You're a hero."
Hero...
What did that word mean anymore? I'd heard it bounced around and aimed at me constantly, but I certainly never felt like one. A hero wouldn't have let Denny die.
"Jackson's really been through it all," Jared continued, sounding almost like a starstruck kid. "He saved my ass more times than I remember."
"And you saved mine too tonight," Gabby said, awed. "That guy was a real creep and..."
She was talking, but I couldn't hear a word she was saying because all I could think about was how damn good it felt to have her leg bump against mine under the table.
My eyes drifted over her body. She had always been a fit girl, always throwing herself into sports. But now her body was honed into athletic perfection. Her arms were slim but strong with defined biceps, and her legs were solid and sleek. My fingertips tingled with the urge to reach out and stroke her knee, but I didn't dare.
I looked deep into her eyes and felt my stomach do a somersault.
It should be illegal to be so beautiful.
At the end of the bar, Carly put on her favorite song, some corny nineties garbage that no doubt reminded her of teenage house parties and high school romances. She half-walked, half-danced to the bar and ordered another round of drinks.
Meanwhile, Gabby was still looking down into her drink. It was impossible to figure out what she was thinking. Was she happy to see me? Was she nervous? Afraid? Angry?
I need to get her on her own. Need to talk to her way from my siblings' burnings ears.
But I would have no such luck. Carly returned with a tray of beers while singing at the top of her lungs. All around us, more and more people started to arrive, and the music got louder.
Beneath the table, our knees bumped again, but there was no blush spreading across her cheeks. Was she doing it on purpose?
Chapter 5
Gabby
"Does she always get this drunk when she's out with you?" Jackson asked as he watched his sister.
"No," I lied. "She's usually pretty respectable. I guess she's just excited to see her big brothers."
He knew that was bullshit but didn't question me. We both turned to look at Carly, who was writhing around a pool cue like a pole dancer while Jared tried to wrestle it away from her.
"She's a wreck," Jackson moaned.
Jared, seeing his older brother's disapproving glances, came over and said, "Look guys, I'm gonna take her home. She's wasted."
"Good idea," Jackson said.
"You guys coming?"
The sensible part of my brain told me I should nod my head, push my drink away, and say yes, I'm going home for an early night. But the sentimental part was telling me to stay out with Jackson. I looked at him and stared at his muscles, his strong face, his tattoos, his large, calloused hands...
Don't go there. He's your ex for a reason. He broke your heart.
But, loosened up by the rum, I found myself saying, "I'm gonna stay out a little longer. I'll grab a cab home in a bit."
"Sure," Jared said as he took Carly's arm. "You kids have a good night."
I watched as Jared guided a staggering Carly out the door. She's a nightmare," I admitted.
After a silence I took as agreement, he said, "Well, it's just the two of us now."
It was hard to gauge what he meant by that. Did he mean he wanted to talk privately? Or something else? My eyes kept returning to the outline of his muscles bulging through his t-shirt. It felt as though my insides were catching fire, and something was stirring between my legs.
Stop it. Just finish your drink and go home! Jackson is dangerous.
But I remained rooted to the spot, the rum slackening my mind, making me not think clearly.
"So it's really true," he said. "About your boyfriend. You really caught him cheating?"
"Yep. Wasn't the greatest moment of my life, I can tell you that. But I was done with him anyway. It just made the breakup that much easier."
He frowned and swirled the last of his beer around the bottom of the bottle.
"What a jerk."
"That's an understatement."
"Men can be such assholes."
"You're telling me."
"Yeah. I've seen the worst of the human race. They're constantly disappointing me."
I got the impression we weren't talking about Todd anymore. Noticing his sad eyes and his slumped shoulders, I knew there was only one thing he could be thinking about.
"I heard about your friend," I said. "Jared told me."
He didn't look up, just kept staring down into his beer as though it could give him the answer he so desperately craved.
"Yeah." he said. "I'm still pretty, I dunno, torn up, I guess you could say."
The misery in his eyes intensified. Long gone was the young cocky kid I'd last seen leaving for basic training with a fresh face and a heart full of youthful enthusiasm. Now I was staring at a man who had seen horrible things, a man who had suffered indescribably.
I had the overwhelming urge to throw myself across the table and squeeze him tight, tell him everythi
ng would be okay, but of course I didn't do anything like that. I just sat completely still, staring into his face feeling helpless.
"I can't imagine what you've been through," I finally said. "It must have been awful over there."
He shrugged. "I served my duty to my country. I'm proud of that."
That pride swelled up inside him and puffed out his chest, gave him an even greater confidence than he already possessed, which made him more desirable. But once again, I squashed down my thoughts and reasoned with myself.
It's just the rum making you like this. You're vulnerable right now and you're not thinking straight.
"Anyway, I don't wanna just talk about myself," he said, forcing a smile and changing the subject. "Tell me about you. I heard you graduated from college. Good for you."
"Yep, got my honors degree in business management.”
"I always knew you’d go far. You got the brains as well as the looks."
He grinned then glanced away boyishly. "So what are you doing now? You got your dream job?"
"Not even close. Have you seen the job market these days? I mean, it's awesome if you're a war hero with special skills who can start up their own superhero security agency, but for your average Joe it's a nightmare. I've been applying for jobs like crazy. I can only get stupid temp office jobs at the moment. I spend more time making coffee than I do actually working."
He leaned back in his seat and stretched. It made his whole chest expand and accentuated his biceps, his killer abs exposed as his t-shirt lifted a bit. I could feel my cheeks burn red, could feel my stomach tie itself up into knots.
"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself," he said. "You're so smart. You could have any job you wanted."
"Maybe you should write my resume."
He laughed and looked toward the bar. It was getting late and people were starting to wander back home. Over by the pool table, I noticed a guy give me a warm smile. He noticed Jackson and walked over.
"Evening, Jackson. Nice to see you out tonight. Is this lovely lady here your date?" My cheeks were hot, and I’m sure bright red.
"No," I said, as firmly as I could.
"She's just a friend," Jackson added.
His eyes were particularly perceptive, and his gaze shifted between us. He could sense the tension but said nothing.