by A J Storm
“You might as well give yourself up, Kenneth. There’s no way out of here for you,” Creeper shouted. He slid a bit closer to the bar, using the Arcade Street Fighter 2 game machine for cover. Too bad I can’t push this sucker next to the bar.
Viper fired a round over the top of the arcade machine. Creeper guessed the man was desperate, hurting, or both.
“Come on, man. Give it up. We can do this all day or till you run out of ammo,” Howler hollered toward the bar.
“I’m not so stupid that I came in here with only one clip. I’ve got several in my pockets. What do you say to letting me slip out the back, and I won’t shoot anyone else?” Viper taunted.
“Can’t do that, Viper. The place is literally crawling with my men—your guys are all dead. You’d be shot the minute you stepped outside,” Creeper responded.
“Then you should let me go, anyway. Someone else to do your dirty work, yeah?”
“I want that pleasure all to myself, Kenneth… For what you’ve done to Nova, Willow, Lyle, and the pregnant woman in your bar. Yeah, man, I was there. At least we saved her baby.”
Silence covered the room. The two brothers listened intently for any sound of movement. Then a roar exploded from the back of the bar as Viper jumped up, holding a Glock in each hand and fired in their direction.
“Motherfuckers,” he screamed.
Creeper and Howler fired until Viper’s gun fell silent, and his body fell over the bar. Creeper slid behind the bar with his gun aimed at the man’s head. He touched his fingers to Viper’s neck, checking for a pulse—none.
“He’s dead, Howler. It’s over.” He heard sirens outside the house. Someone must have called 911. Leaning against the bar, the brothers took just enough time to catch their breath and calm themselves.
Together, they walked to the door and dashed back to where Chaos was bent over Lyle, pressing his shirt against his chest. Wet with tears, Creeper’s eyes gazed into Lyle’s face.
“Come on, buddy. We’ve got help on the way. You’re going to make it.”
“Fraid not, boss. I feel myself drifting off,” Lyle choked out, coughing up blood.
“Don’t you dare give up, Lyle. That’s an order.” Howler and Chaos both wiped tears off their faces.
“Creeper,” Lyle whispered, grabbing his jacket and pulling him down. “Favor… Let Howler… Sadie have Zach.” He struggled to breathe between the fits of coughing. “They’ll take care of him… I called him Zach.”
Lyle smiled as his eyes closed. One breath… two… a sigh, then the smile faded. Lyle was gone. Three brothers hung their heads together and cried. EMTs carried in their equipment, followed by police, and the sheriff’s department for the county.
Chaos stood to greet the emergency personnel. “He didn’t make it, guys. Need to cancel the helicopter to the hospital and call the coroner. He has a lot of work to do here.”
One police officer puffed out his chest and spoke to Chaos. “Who are you? What the hell went on here this afternoon?”
Before Chaos could answer the officer, three homicide detectives came up behind the police, interrupting. “It’s okay, boys. We’ll take over from here. You, your men and the sheriff’s department need to work the bodies around the outside of the house. This is now our case.”
Recognizing his friends, Chaos extended his hand to greet them.
“Chaos, how are you doing? It looks like a real mess outside. I’d hate to take you on in a fight,” the detective said, trying for light conversation.
“It’s a mess in here too. One body here and the cause of the problem is in the family room. Howler and Creeper took him out. The hostages are in the living room and bunkhouses.”
Listening to the conversation between Chaos and the detective, Creeper spoke up. “Detective, if you and your men would come with me into the living room, I’ll explain everything to everyone at once. It’ll answer all your questions.”
Chaos frowned at Creeper, wondering what he could tell them Chaos couldn’t. “What, dude?”
“Later, Chaos, I’ll explain when we get in there,” Creeper insisted as he strolled off to find Nova.
Nova sat next to Creeper on the hearth, her hand placed on his thigh, leaning against his good shoulder. Deep in thought, Creeper faced a room full of people—family, friends, friends of family, and the appropriate officials who needed the information he had.
“Most everyone in here knows I work with my brothers at an investigative company we own. We’re very good at what we do. However, I also work for a covert governmental agency. I’ve been with them since I left the Corps. I’m not allowed to talk about it with anyone, including my family. My brothers always tease me, calling me ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’
Chaos snuggled against Willow on the floor so the others could sit in chairs. Chaos smiled at his brother’s remark and looked over to Howler who was chuckling.
“A year ago, the agency approached me to investigate a lawyer named Kenneth Williams. My assignment was to gather proof of his secret group—gang for a better word—and prove they were dealing drugs, selling guns, and babies through his law firm. I incorporated many of my sniper buddies, and we formed several teams, each taking surveillance shifts.
“Lyle is… um, was my right-hand man in all of this. Even though he had a big heart, he was a fierce fighter. I lost a very dear friend today,” Creeper expressed, his voice choking up. “He loved most people, and he loved life. He proved that by taking charge of a baby left by a woman Viper killed. He was an amazing man who worked with me from the beginning.
“Eight months ago, the agency told me it was no longer an investigation. I was now charged with taking out the entire group and put Kenneth’s law office out of business, however I saw fit—no question asked. You all understand what that means because you are aware what a sniper does. I make no apologies for what I do for my country, but I wanted you to know it was sanctioned—unofficially,” Creeper explained, standing to hand a business card to one of the detectives.
“If you call the number on the back of the card and talk with the name written under the number, he’ll give you the appropriate information to clear up this mess for your superiors—unofficially, of course.”
Once everyone but the family had gone and all the bodies removed, Creeper spoke again. “Before everyone parts ways, there are a couple of things I want everyone to know. Mr. and Mrs. Maxy, my teams will come tomorrow and thoroughly clean and clear your house and grounds. You won’t be able to tell anything happened here. Until we’re finished, it might be wise if you stayed somewhere else. We’ll pay for your lodging, and I promise they’ll take the greatest care with your property.”
Mr. Maxy offered his thanks to everyone involved. Nova leaned over, throwing her arms around Creeper’s waist.
“The other thing I needed to tell you is this. You remember I said eight months before the job changed. I was aware Nova had just started dating Viper the week before that. I followed her to a bar she and her friends frequented and introduced myself. Through several nights, I convinced her to stop dating the man without telling her why. By then, it was too late—Viper didn’t want to let her go. To shorten the story, she dated us both.
“Viper never knew about me, and I fell in love with Nova. Even though the baby she is carrying isn’t mine, I want to take care of her. She had never slept with Viper before that time, and in fact, the man himself, drugged and raped her on a final date. Once she couldn’t keep the pregnancy a secret, Viper assumed it was his. I helped her leave and move in with me to protect her. Imagine my surprise when Willow hired Chaos to find her. And Howler, you heard Lyle… Chaos and I will work very hard to get you and Sadie the okay to adopt Zach. We won’t let you down.”
Everyone in the room was in tears when Creeper finally relinquished control of the conversation. Howler’s face told the whole story—pain for Lyle and Creeper, but joy at the prospect of becoming a daddy.
“I promise we’ll keep the name Zach, Creeper. Lyle named him for
us,” Howler announced through sobs. Mrs. Maxy hugged both her girls before her husband whisked her off to stay in one of Austin’s finest hotels. She promised them both another Sunday brunch with both of their men as soon as her home felt complete once again.
One week after Lyle’s funeral, Chaos took the entire day off from work. He checked in early with Maggie before he left on his errand.
“I’m not one to be nosy,” Maggie started on one of her normal questioning games, “but may I ask what this errand is since it’s taking all day?”
Chaos was dressed in ratty jeans, a sweatshirt, and loafers, and was laughing at her first statement. “Maggie, my love, you are the Queen of nosy, and yes, you can ask, but I won’t tell you.”
“But what if Willow calls or one of your brothers and asks where you are? I tell them you refused to tell me, and that makes me appear as an incompetent office manager. It doesn’t represent your company very well.”
“Oh, all right, but only because you whined so nicely.”
“I do not whine,” Maggie argued. “I merely ask with lots of emotion.”
“I rest my case. I’m going to get a tattoo,” Chaos answered her.
“Oh, dear, I thought you and Willow were working on solving that problem. What do I tell her?”
“Maggie, you don’t tell her anything. I’m on an errand. And why do you know so much about my personal life?” Chaos asked.
“Um, because I whine so well? Seriously, what do I tell Willow? You know she’ll call before work is over.”
“Tell her I’m running an errand, and she needs to be at the penthouse at seven o’clock. That is all.” He strolled to the elevator, leaving Maggie’s stuttering ‘buts’ hanging in the air.
Chaos was under the tattoo artist’s needle for six and a half hours. He’d brought a picture with him of exactly what he wanted on the front of his thigh—the same thigh with the mother and baby tat on the back. It had a place of honor.
This one hurt like a motherfucker, but it was worth it.
Women’s laughter rang through the apartment when he stepped out of the elevator. Willow, Sadie, and Howler were playing with Zach on the floor.
“Where you been, babe?” Willow asked. She had that tone in her voice Chaos recognized as nosy.
“I had an errand to run today. Wow, look how alert the little guy is now. He notices everything.”
“Well, I know that’s what Maggie said, but she didn’t say what it was,” Willow continued.
“I’ll tell you later. Howler, isn’t it crazy how women are the nosiest of the species?” He winked at her.
“Don’t get me into this. I plead the fifth,” Howler replied. “Sadie and I are taking the baby to Mom and Dad’s for dinner. Wanna come? I know she’ll make enough to feed all of us.”
“I’ve got plans, but thank you.” Chaos smiled down at Willow’s frowny face. “Tell Mom and Dad I said hello.”
Howler, Sadie, and Zach left shortly after their invitation, and fifteen minutes after they left, a caterer brought in three-cheese ravioli with alfredo sauce, warm bread, and garlic-oil dipping sauce, setting it on the table.
“What’s the occasion, Chaos?” Willow asked, sitting at the table and breathing in the delicious aromas.
“Nothing special. I simply wanted to express how much you mean to me and how scared I was when Viper held you hostage. The only thing that kept me from going crazy, sugar, was your face and voice. I didn’t fall apart during the whole ordeal because I heard your voice telling me you’d help me through it. I didn’t get one tattoo the entire time.”
Apprehension covered her face as her eyes slowly looked up, piercing his. “You went out today and got a tattoo, didn’t you? That’s why Maggie sounded weird on the phone.”
“Yeah, I did, but it’s not what you think. I got the tattoo because I wanted it, not because I had to have it.” His hand flew to his fly, unzipped his jeans, and let them fall to his knees.
There on the front of his thigh was a beautiful color portrait of Willow. The shading and coloring were expert which, of course, made the tattoo appear real. Underneath her face were the words, “My last tattoo—my love.”
“It’s my last, sugar. I won’t have to have another.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she stood, grabbed his hand, and led him into the bedroom.
Epilogue
Two months after the ordeal at the Maxy ranch, he sat on his couch, wearing nothing but his low-rise sweats, legs stretched in front of his body, no shoes, ankles crossed. To anyone walking into the room, he looked calm with the world. But his mind was clicking through events over the last year, which was like watching a video of still shots, one after the other.
Just today, he watched as a very pregnant Nova turned down his baby brother’s offer of marriage. Her excuse was she wanted no part of a man who spent his life in the service of an organization who sanctioned snipers. Chaos mulled over everything Creeper and his brothers had done for her. All he could do was shake his head in bewilderment.
One week after the shoot-out at the Maxy corral, Chaos’ friends at the police department came to his office, declaring the Jackson Investigative Services was cleared from pending charges of murder. It was due to his buddy talking with the head of Creeper’s boss at the secret government agency and receiving information he wouldn’t be able to ever share. All events were very neatly swept under the secret rug as it were. Nothing was reported to the news media—only the local gossips of neighboring towns shared stories, most blown out of believability. This too would quickly die down.
Chaos heaved a sigh of relief at the memory, re-crossed his ankles, and continued looking at his mind’s version of “Thanks for the Memories.”
The mess at the ranch changed many lives. Willow’s relationship with her mother softened a bit. Chaos was a big part of the change. He provided a calming influence on both women, Chaos taking a lot of cues from Willow’s father. The man was very wise, and both ladies had started to heal.
The biggest reason for her mother’s change was her experience being a hostage in her own home. Helplessness has a way of humbling a person deep to their core. Life was too short and precious to be worried about one’s appearance in their community.
She’d actually voiced that opinion to me—out loud.
Thankfully, most of Chaos’ issues with his PTSD and using tattoos as a way out of stress had healed—Willow the reason for the healing. Seems she was as wise as her father, in this case. Of course, having her own experience with cutting offered her knowledge to share.
I still have trouble associating getting a tattoo and cutting the skin in the same category. However, when you break it all down to bare bones, there isn’t much difference. The reasons for doing both are the same. Both are used to halt pain, anxiety, and fear. Thank you, Willow.
All because my woman—yes, my woman—listens to my pain, my fears, and we talk through them for a logical solution. And sex afterward is always helpful.
Chaos finally talked her into moving in with him at the penthouse a week ago. Neither one was brave enough to talk marriage yet, but the ‘L’ word was always used between the two. Thinking about the future, he had no doubt they would marry, probably in the next year. He went back to when they first met at the bar and how they stayed, talking for hours.
The day she came into his office, looking lost and afraid but hired his company that very day. They became good friends, doing things together and going places even when they weren’t looking for Nova. Chaos loved Willow with all his heart and could almost pinpoint the emotion to the first night at the bar.
Willow walked into the living room, wearing one of his shirts and nothing else. She sat beside him on the couch and smiled her mischievous smile.
“You’re thinking awfully hard inside that mind of yours. I smell smoke.”
Even though she was in one of her playful, corny moods, Chaos drew her into an embrace across his chest and stared into her eyes.
“I was t
hinking about the growth everyone has gone through. I’m so grateful for you in my life.” She kissed him, lightly at first, then ravaged his mouth. Nothing remained ‘lightly’ when the two kissed.
He shifted his body and stretched out on the couch, pulling her up and over him. “You know I want you right now—bad. I can finally take you when I want and where I want—alone at last.”
“Sadie was ecstatic you got the judge to approve taking Zach home with them to Oklahoma. The DHS department will do their in-home inspections up there. It looks very good for the adoption. I’m so proud of you.”
“How proud?”
“Oh, very proud.”
“Show me.”
“How do I do that?” she teased.
“Take it out and ride me.” Her hand was already pulling the waistband down when he said it.
“I love you, Chaos Jackson.”
“And I love you, Willow. It’s strange, but my nickname no longer applies to my life anymore—all because of you.”
The End
About AJ Storm
I’m AJ Storm and I write erotic dreams in all genres.
I’m an avid reader of various erotic romance books including BDSM, paranormal, murder/mystery, sci-fi to name a few. I am particularly fond of vampire and shifter stories. Currently, I live in the Midwestern part of the United States with my husband and my four-year-old Chocolate Labrador Retriever. I’m a 67-year-old grandmother of six, a mother of two, and a wife to the hubby for 43 years. Most of my life, I’ve been a writer, but just not of books. Essays, book reports, letters, and short stories were my expression of self. My real talent appeared in high school when I received my first guitar and wrote music, lyrics, and sang. Love songs helped me release my Passion.
Marriage and raising children hindered my free time, so the guitar sat in the corner voiceless. In 2006, I discovered voices waking me in the middle of the night telling me their stories, and when I finally listened, I wrote them down. That was how Emily’s Passion came about. The story is fiction but is based on my life and travels through breast cancer. And so, here I am today with eleven published books and one about to be released.
