by W. Winters
Now’s not the time, but I don’t know when it will be time though. Shit.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I listen to the water splashing and talk over it, raising my voice to make sure Laura can hear me.
“You really shouldn’t pick fights.” I don’t tell her it scares me. I don’t tell anyone that anything scares me.
“You can stop reprimanding me,” she calls out in a singsong voice after opening the sliding glass door to make sure I hear her response. The shower door closes and then opens again for her to add, “And I didn’t pick the fight, I finished it.”
Her smart-ass mouth brings a warmth to my chest as I chuckle and run a hand down my face. She shouldn’t have to finish any fights. That’s the problem.
It’s my fault for letting her stay here.
Letting her. She hates that word.
Now there’s a real fight to pick. Not tonight though. Not with everything going down.
The creak of the faucet precedes the sound of the water stopping, the shower door sliding open and the pitter-patter of her bare feet in the bathroom.
I watch her dry herself off, then wrap her hair up in the towel. All the while, I eye her curves. She takes her time rubbing lotion into her legs and I’m pretty sure she’s prolonging touching herself just to tease me.
She dries her hair and lets the towel drop to the floor in a puddle at her feet. With one hand on either side of the threshold, she stands there butt naked, looking utterly fuckable. And then she speaks.
“You don’t fuck with crazy.”
Grabbing my hard cock through my jeans I tell her, “Speak for yourself.”
She gives me a ridiculously gorgeous smile that’s infectious and tells me I’m awful before making her way to the bed.
“Come here.” I give her the command even though she was already coming to me.
She crawls up my body, slow and deliberate, but keeps her hair to the side since it’s still damp.
“You really are impossible,” she tells me and she could be saying I’m her Prince Charming with the look she’s got in her eyes. I love the way she looks at me. No one’s ever looked at me like that before. No one other than her.
“I don’t think you’ve got much room to talk,” I respond, wanting to bring up the situation again if for no other reason than to get her fine ass to move in with me and be safe.
“When I said that, I meant no one wants to mess with a crazy person,” she explains. “That’s what my dad used to tell me. You never know what someone crazy is going to do. They could bite your nose off if you push them, you know? They’re crazy. So if you react like that, like you’ve lost your mind, no one’s going to want to mess with you. It’s not worth losing your nose over.”
I have a hard time keeping a straight face; she’s serious as all hell right now. “So you were acting like you’re crazy? You were in full control the whole damn time?” I question her, letting my tone prove that I think what she’s saying is bullshit.
Pursing her lips she thinks for a moment, looking past me. Instead of answering me, she says, “I didn’t pick the fight.” The humor and confidence are gone.
“I know you didn’t,” I tell her with sincerity. Spearing my hand through her hair, I bring my lips to hers and kiss her. I nudge my nose against hers and whisper, “You did what you had to do.”
“Exactly.” Both of her hands wrap around mine when she speaks. And I kiss her again, but she pulls away.
“I have to get ready,” is the excuse she gives me. Her ass sways as she walks, tempting me even though she doesn’t seem interested.
“You wanna?” I ask her, and when she turns to look at me with a hint of confusion, I thrust my hips in her direction.
She only laughs before telling me no and saying I’m a shitty Romeo.
“What if I kiss you here?” Getting on my knees at the edge of the bed so I can tower over her as she stands at the end of it, I suck her neck. I feel her thighs hit the edge of the bed and hear her moan before I plant a single kiss there and pull back.
“You’re hot,” she tells me with a moan and smiles. “But I don’t want to be late, and you’re not getting laid right now. You should come up with something better while I’m getting dressed.”
Damn it. I watch her walk away.
“You know all my lines already,” I call out to her as she closes the bathroom door, leaving me with blue balls in her too-small bed. Even being shut down I’m smiling, because she’s all right and she’s happy.
We’re all right. Everything is going to be all right.
Not even five seconds pass before the bathroom door opens again. I only raise up my head, to look at her.
She clucks her tongue and puts both hands on the door again. Her small breasts have a bit of weight to them and they sway when she sways.
“Sometimes I do feel crazy,” she tells me and I see the hurt there, plain as day in her eyes as they gloss over.
“You’re not crazy,” I say. I’m quick to sit up but before I can get off the bed, she’s already walking to me. I wait there on the edge, the bed bowed in the center from my weight.
She stops before she can walk between my knees. When she’s hurt, all I want to do is love her. Lay her down and fuck her until the sad eyes are only in my memory.
Crossing her arms, her breasts are pushed up. She is not helping my situation at all. “Tell me what you need, Babygirl,” I speak softly and caress her, placing a hand on each of her elbows. I know what she needs.
She finally decides on her next words. “I love you, and you need to make this up to me.”
“Get on the bed,” I tell her, standing up so she can take my place.
“That’s not—”
“Get your ass on that bed.” I’m firmer this time and she can’t hide the smile. She gets on the bed on all fours before rolling onto her back and lying down for me.
“Knees bent, legs spread,” I tell her, and the grin widens even with her teeth sinking into that bottom lip.
I make my way between her legs; she has to move her heels out further so my shoulders fit between her knees.
I start with a single kiss on the inside of her knee. “Let me show you how much I worship this…” I say then pause to plant another kiss, further up her thigh.
She’s already breathing heavy, already wriggling on the bed ever so slightly.
I smack her clit with the back of my hand. Her top half jolts up, her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open. “Keep still,” I tell her and push her chest back down. She obeys.
She says she wants a dom; I’ll give it to her.
“Like I was saying,” I say and plant another kiss on the inside of the opposite knee. “Let me show you how much I worship…” I keep my warm breath close to her skin as I speak and watch the goosebumps slide up her body, following my path of open-mouth kisses.
“... This perfectly sane...” I can’t even keep a straight face while I talk, so I smile against her skin. The warmth of her feminine laugh and the way she covers her face fuel me to continue.
Another kiss. “Never unreasonable...” I say and shake my head between her thighs, letting my nose graze just above her clit.
“Completely stable...” I continue then suck on her clit, which cuts off her laughter instantly.
Her legs close tighter around me, and I push them back open, reminding her to be still.
“Beautiful,” I add and plant another kiss. “Smart,” I say and lick her from her entrance to her hard nub. “Woman,” I say then breathe against her clit while her hands find my hair. Pulling on what little she can grab, I don’t stop sucking and licking until she’s trembling under me.
Then I take her like I have so many times. On this too-small bed, in this broken-down house, filled with so many memories just like this. Lying next to her when it’s all over, I think again about how I get it, even if she thinks I don’t. I get why she wants to stay.
“You’re not coming in?” Laura questions me when I stop the car
at the front of the Clubhouse. I haven’t even put it in park yet, but she knows the drill. She turns off the radio and looks at the Club and then back at me. The Club is an old bar Connor’s dad used to own. He had bikes and he liked to think of him and his friends as a motorcycle club. Connor inherited it when they were gunned down. This place is everything that represents how we got here. We inherited what was ours to have and the life that comes with it.
“We just have to run and pick something up,” I lie.
Laura clucks her tongue after unbuckling her seat belt. Narrowing her beautiful eyes, she tells me, “You picked me up so I wouldn’t drive here. So I couldn’t leave while you were out doing something stupid.”
“Beautiful and smart,” I say then tilt my head to the side and give her a charming smile. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“What are you doing, Seth?” she asks and her tone is serious.
“Just something stupid. I’ll be quick, I promise. You won’t even get your second drink down before I’m back.” I give her a quick kiss that she doesn’t return, and her expression is the same as it was when I lean back.
She settles into her seat, her clutch in her lap and she looks at me. Really looks at me. “I wish you wouldn’t do dumb shit.”
I can’t return her gaze when I lie to her. I’m staring at my thumb tapping restlessly on the steering wheel instead as I say, “I’m working on it.”
I’m getting in deeper. That’s the way this works. There isn’t an out. One day she’ll see that. She just needs time to adjust.
The leather protests as she leans over the console and plants a kiss on my jaw. “Don’t get yourself hurt,” she tells me and then gets out of the car without sparing me another glance.
I promise her I won’t and watch her go. She looks back and gives me the smallest of smiles. I know it’s more for me than it is her. Or at least that’s how it feels in this moment.
I keep the radio off as I drive away after watching her walk in. Roman was at the door, so he’s got her taken care of. The twenty-minute drive is quiet on the way to the warehouse. Nothing but black night and cool spring air blowing from the open windows.
Quiet is good for moments like this. Preparing for the “dumb shit,” as she calls it. I go over the plan with every turn I take until I’m parked beside two unmarked vans behind Linel Centers.
“Already got the plates,” Derrick tells me when I get out. There’s nothing back here in the mountains but woods. Crickets chirp in the distance as I open up the double doors to see the back of the van is empty. It’s colder than it was when I left Laura. Seems fitting.
“Other one is empty too,” Derrick tells me and then Connor appears, the keys to the other van clattering in his hand. “We’re all set, Boss.”
“What about the fireworks?” I ask them and Connor tells me those are all set too.
“All right, let’s do this.” I give the command as I shut the doors, but Derrick grabs my arm. “What about the dogs?”
Half of me wants to mess with him, tease him about being scared of some dogs, but tonight is all business. “Tranqs are in the glove box of my car. Grab ‘em.”
Derrick pats my shoulder and I can see the instant relief on his face. While he’s off getting the tranquilizer guns, I tell Connor to take that van and I’ll ride with Derrick.
This isn’t the first time we’ve done this shit. Won’t be the last. Roman and Liam are at the Club, but they’re on call and they know it. Sometimes in our line of business, the more, the better. But late at night, in the dark with a surprise like this, the fewer, the better. We only need three.
I probably could have done it with just two, but someone needs to be driving and someone else on the walkie while we’re moving. So three it is. Besides, I don’t know how much shit Mathews has in his stores.
Reaching in my jacket pockets, I hand Connor one of the two walkie-talkies. “Let’s do this.”
The gravel crunches under my boots as I round the back of the van and I look up to the moon. Not a star is in sight, just vacant dusk and a sliver of light. Every five minutes I swear the night sky is getting darker.
“You drive,” I tell Derrick and hear Connor close his door. He starts his van before Derrick can move. The empty van sways as Derrick swings himself into his seat.
“You good? Got your mask?” I speak into the walkie and pull my mask from the glove box. It’s a simple ski mask. I’m sure there are cameras, so we’re taking every precaution. I don’t have to wait long for a response.
“All good, Boss.”
The van revs to life and four streams of white brighten the dirt road ahead of us.
With the walkie’s talk button pressed down, I speak to both of them, going over the plan one more time.
“As soon as we’re lined up at the docking site, Connor will set off the first round of rockets a block down. They’re all set, right, Connor?”
“Got ‘em in place. And they’re the best ones too. They’re low and sound like gunshots.”
I wait for the click and continue. “There are only two men on-site and they stay out of the storage unit. I bet Mathews is too scared one of his men will steal from him, so he keeps it light. We get their attention with the fireworks. They run toward the noise or to their cars, I don’t give a shit where, so long as they’re far enough back and going after something that isn’t there. We back the truck up, over the fence and right into door of the storage building at the dock. In and out, no talking. Not a damn word unless someone’s going to die. Got it?”
“Got it,” they both answer without stress, with nothing but seriousness.
“We’ll take this shit back here, dump it, change the plates, and head back to the Club like nothing happened.”
“It’s a plan,” Derrick comments as we round the corner, getting us out of here and where we need to go.
It’s silent while we drive. Just like the drive down here. All the while, I let the adrenaline flow. It courses through me, urging me to get it done as quick as we can without missing a beat. I glance at Derrick, whose hard expression mirrors what I feel. It’s why this crew works; we all need the same, want the same. I focus on the plan and why we need Mathews to back the hell up. This will hurt him and it’ll make him think twice about inching closer to Tremont.
Time goes by too fast, but not fast enough just the same.
I can already smell the water. There’s a saltiness to the air with the windows down. We have five minutes until we’re there. If that.
Five minutes of calm although it feels anything but. My muscles are tense and my throat tight. This spike in my veins is a different kind of high. My second favorite. The only thing that tops this is when I’m under Laura. Or on top of her, for that matter.
This right here, I fucking love the intensity. The need to fight severely, quickly. The desire to protect what’s ours… It will never grow old. It’s everything. Laura should know that. She just needs time.
When Derrick sees me putting on my gloves, he does the same. One block to go, and the small bait store on the corner comes into view. The fixture is an old shed and shut down for the night. Everything down here is closed. There shouldn’t be any witnesses. Other than the two men working for Mathews.
“Masks on,” I tell them and put on my own. It’s hot with it in place, but a necessity. Just like the gloves. The mask is cheap, but my gloves are thin leather and expensive as shit. I can’t have gloves slipping off or hindering my movements when I’m in the heat of it all.
Thump, my heart pounds in my chest, fighting against my rib cage as we come around the corner. There are three white storage sheds made of steel. Each surrounded by chain-link fences ten feet high. They look about twenty feet apart from each other. One has two dogs inside the perimeter, with a doghouse in the far corner. That’s it.
There are two men on that property. At least there should be, but I don’t see either of them yet.
“Here,” I speak into the walkie and watch as Connor’s van co
mes to a stop in the rearview. We’re in a good position to keep a lookout and not be seen. Turning off the vans, we wait.
This is the worst part. The waiting. Not being able to move.
We need eyes on the men doing patrols. I wait a minute and then another, feeling the ring in my blood, the need to be fast and not sit and wait. It could be a setup. Wright could be two-timing us. The glance from Derrick tells me he’s on edge just like I am.
We can’t wait. When you’re still, that’s when your enemies catch up to you.
“Now.” The second I say the word, I catch sight of a man coming around the corner of the dock. Smoke billows from his blunt as he rounds the building from inside the fence.
Crack, crack, crack!
The rockets go off somewhere unseen, but they hit the building farthest away from the one we’re after.
The man screams what sounds like a name, dropping his smoke and grabbing the gun at his waist. He races to the gate of the fence furthest from us. His back is to us; he doesn’t have a clue we’re here.
So far, it’s all going according to plan, but anything can go wrong.
Wait, wait. I can barely keep still in my seat, willing both of them to move. To get to their cars, to go toward the distraction. Something. Anything.
My foot taps anxiously on the floorboard of the van as I stare at him and see him wave a guy over. The second guy comes around from the other side.
“Again,” I speak into the walkie and just like that, a second round goes off just as the two men move to open the gate. They take cover behind the doghouse, but the German shepherds are there, barking and going crazy. They sound vicious even from here and with a series of curses, one of the men smacks a dog over his head with the back of his gun. The yelp of the wounded animal is swallowed by the pandemonium of bangs and cracks from both the fireworks and the shots fired by men who think they’re under attack.
“How many?” one yells over the supposed gunshots.
“I don’t know!”
The two men scream while the sounds ricochet throughout the docks.
I can imagine what’s running through their minds. They’re dead men. It’s too many blasts, too many guns, which means too many men for only the two of them.