The Complete Quake Series Boxset

by Jacob Chance

  “When are, you going to tell our Kenna how you feel about her?” she asks.

  I draw my eyebrows together and grimace.

  Jesus. Are my feelings for her that obvious? Here I thought I was being so smooth and keeping it under wraps. Fuck. I hope no one else has noticed.

  “Kenna and I are just friends,” I explain. Talia looks at me doubtfully.

  “Okay. You’ll admit it someday. I just hope it won’t be too late.” She studies my face. I do my best to remain impassive. “When you really care about someone you shouldn’t let anything stand in your way.” She winks at me before walking down the stairs.

  If only it were that easy.

  Once I’m inside the building I take the stairs up to Kenna’s floor and knock on her door. She doesn’t answer right away. I glance at my watch and realize it’s only nine, she might be sleeping still. Should I knock again or go? Fuck it. I’m already here. I rap on the dark stained door with my knuckles. “Kenna. Open up.” I shout through the door. I listen for any sounds of her stirring inside and just when I’m about to give up hope that she’s home, I hear her. “Coming,” she calls out in a hoarse voice. Shit. I’ve woken her up. Part of me feels regret for keeping her from catching up on the sleep I know she needs; but not sorry enough to walk away and let her go back to bed.

  When she opens the door, I must press my lips together to hold back the smile.

  “What do you want?” she asks, leaning against the doorjamb. Her eyes are clouded with sleep and her hair is a tousled mess. If I didn’t know better I’d think she just went a few rounds with some dude in her bed, but I know she’s not like that.

  “Can I come in?” I flash a quick smile at her.

  My eyes slowly study all five feet seven inches of her. I start at the bottom, my eyes skating over the tempting golden skin bared to me. Her legs are long and lean. They’re toned but not overly muscular. The t-shirt she has on stops at mid-thigh, the bulky shape hides the rest of her body from my view, but imagining what lies underneath makes it even sexier to me than if she were wearing lingerie. The fullness of her breasts can’t be hidden from my eyes, even with a shirt that many sizes too big.

  She crosses her arms over her chest. “Thanks for waking me up. It’s not like I need the sleep.” She scowls at me. A twinge of remorse runs through me. I don’t want her to be over tired, but the idea of seeing her this morning was too much for me to resist.

  “I’m sorry I woke you up. I promise it will be worth it.” I stare into her eyes imploring her to let me in.

  Her gorgeous face is makeup free and the naturally dark-pink color of her lips draws my attention to them. I want to lick her bottom lip to see if it’s as soft as I remember, then spend as much time as she’d let me becoming reacquainted with their subtle curves and taste.

  “Okay, come in.” She steps back into her apartment and I follow. She must be tired. She barely put up a fight. I push the door closed behind me.

  When she turns, and walks toward the kitchen, I follow. My eyes gravitate to her legs and I fantasize about draping them over my shoulders while I taste her pussy for the first time. Fuck. I need to stop having these thoughts about her. We can never be more than friends no matter how much I want to own her…and her heart.

  “You want coffee?” she asks fiddling with her coffee machine.

  “No thanks.” I wait for her to finish adding cream and sugar to her mug. She turns around, leaning back against the edge of the granite countertop and takes her first sip of coffee.

  She moans. “God that’s good.”

  Jesus. My dick is hard now. I want to make her moan with pleasure; make her scream my name. I shove my hands into the pockets on my jeans and hope she can’t see my hard-on.

  “What brings you to my neck of the woods this morning?” she asks. Both of her hands are wrapped around her coffee mug as she peers up at me, before taking another sip.

  I pull her necklace out of my pocket and hold it suspended by the clasp in front of her. “I found this in my car and wanted to return it right away.” She reaches her hand out, wraps her thin fingers around the gold K and pulls it out of my hand. She smiles while she studies it. She looks up at me and I notice a sheen of tears in her eyes.

  “My parents gave me this for my fifteenth birthday. It was a week before they died.” She looks away, clearing her throat. “Thanks for bringing it here. I’d be really sad if I lost it.” She puts her mug down and opens the clasp on the necklace.

  I hold my hand out to her. “Here, let me do it.” She hands it over to me, spinning around to face the counter. She lifts her long, shiny hair off her neck. I move closer and as I fasten the clasp my fingers gently brush against the nape of her neck. Her skin is soft and warm and makes me long to have her naked body pressed up against mine. I think about what it would be like to sleep wrapped around her every night breathing in the clean scent of her soft hair.

  “All set.” My eyes squeeze shut for a moment. I hate the lucky bastard she’s going to end up with. I need to stop doing this to myself. I open my eyes and take a step back. I need some distance from her. I squeeze my hands into fists fighting the urge to push her back against the kitchen cabinets and make her mine.

  She turns around and rubs her fingers over the letter charm. She smiles. “Thanks. I don’t know how I missed it last night.”

  I need to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret. “Hey, I’m going to let you get back to sleep now. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

  She frowns, then masks it. “No.” She waves her hand dismissively. “Thanks for getting it back to me. It’s my most prized possession.” She beams a smile at me so bright her eyes light up with joy. Every part of Kenna is sexy as hell, but it’s her eyes that affect me the most. That golden gaze of hers, teases me. The way she looks at me can make my dick harder than a rock and make my heart pound so fast it seems like it’s going to beat right out of my chest. Her eyes can also reflect all the tragedy she’s been through. Sometimes I see so much pain there, I want to do anything I can to make it better. She doesn’t want me to be that guy for her, though. She thinks I’m just a player and that’s all there is to me. Maybe that’s my fault. I’ve never shown her the other parts of me; the best parts.

  I walk across the hardwood floor and open the door to leave. I hesitate for a moment, my eyes taking her in one more time. I’m not sure when I’ll see her again. I shove my hands in my front pockets to keep myself from kissing her until she can’t remember anything but me.

  “Take care,” I say, before walking away.

  “Bye for now,” she calls out, before shutting the door.

  Once I’m back in my car I head toward Kyle’s house, stopping at a drive-through on the way. I wanted to ask Kenna to breakfast, but I couldn’t handle sitting across from her for a whole meal this morning. I’m too close to falling off the edge with her. Each time I see her is testing my resolve more and more. I’m not sure how much more I can take before I finally snap, and since that can never happen, I need to stay the fuck away.

  Scott Johnson was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth, went to an Ivy League school and fell in love with a beautiful girl. Unfortunately, his love for cocaine was greater than his love for his girlfriend. He ended up expelled from Harvard and a disgrace to his family. Now, he does odd jobs for Paddy O’Connor, an old-time gangster in Southie. Paddy still has his fingers in various pies, so to speak. He’s got ties to drugs, guns, and rumor has it, he’s involved in human trafficking. He and Whitey Bulger were rumored to be tight, back in the day.

  I was hired by Scott’s family to keep an eye on the wanna-be-gangster. I’m parked outside his apartment waiting for him to leave. His father wants to know what he’s gotten himself into and he’s going to be devastated when I tell him the full gamut of what Scott’s involved in. It’s not pretty and there’s no way to sugarcoat how his son’s cocaine problem has escalated into a full-blown heroin addiction. Heroin is cheap, making it the go-to drug for many
who swore they were above it and said they would never do it. As if they’re too good for heroin; because drug addicts have such high standards. Funny how they change their minds when they can’t pay for cocaine and they need something to keep them from falling into withdrawals. The fear of going through that painful process is enough to keep them hooked, but when you add in the way their body craves it; it’s almost impossible to escape its clutches.

  I turn the radio up and listen to three David Bowie songs played back to back. It’s Three for Thursday on my favorite classic rock channel. Sitting here is boring as fuck, but it goes with the territory of being a private investigator. At least I’ve got good music to keep me company.

  I watch his apartment for signs of life, but the lights went out thirty minutes ago, and I think it’s time to call it a night.

  I return to my house in Southie. I live in a white triple decker house I converted into a one family. I did most of the work myself and whatever I needed help with, Kyle and some other friends were there to pitch in.

  I’m happy with the way it turned out. I have a deck on each floor and a large backyard. Not bad for a delinquent from Dorchester. I may have moved on from where I got my start, but that doesn’t change the fact that Kenna is too good for me. If she knew about my criminal past she wouldn’t want me anyway.

  I’m sitting on the third-floor deck right now, kicking back in one of the rocking chairs I bought. I stare out into the darkness of the night, lost in thought, while I sip my beer. Tonight, is one of those times when I’m feeling philosophic and pondering the meaning of life. I tip the bottle back and swallow another ice-cold gulp of Sam Adams. Maybe someday I’ll have a wife and we’ll be sitting here together watching our kids play ball. I can’t imagine myself settling down with anyone other than Kenna, though, and since that’s not going to happen, I’ll have to enjoy the fruits of my labor all by myself.

  Why can’t I stop thinking of her? I’ve tried so hard to keep my distance from her. Every time we’re within five feet of each other the space between us is fraught with sexual tension. It’s been that way since the day I met her.

  I sip on my beer and allow myself to indulge the memories I try so hard to keep at bay.

  Six years ago

  She’s only nineteen. I must keep reminding myself this while I watch Kenna splashing around the pool with her friends. She’s wearing a tiny red bikini and it’s all I can do not to throw her over my shoulder, take her home with me and bury my cock in her until she can’t take anymore. I’d give anything to be able to make that fantasy a reality, but it’s never going to happen. She changes every time I see her, growing more and more striking. It’s difficult for me to suppress my X-rated thoughts of her and treat her with the indifference I should. She’s my best friend’s little sister and no matter what I want (or fantasize about), we can never be more than friends.

  When Kyle invited me over for the cookout, I didn’t realize Kenna and her friends would be here. I gulp back the remainder of my beer and walk across the deck, grabbing a fresh one from the cooler. I throw the empty one in the ever-growing recycling bin and pop the top with the opener Kyle set out on the table. My eyes search for her, but she’s not in the pool anymore. She’s drying off with a large green beach towel. There’s some young punk standing next to her and they’re engaged in conversation. The lyrical sound of her laughter travels across the backyard to me. I want to know what they’re talking about. What is he saying to her right now? I squeeze the beer bottle in my hand and fight the urge to stalk over there. I want to step between them and tell him to get lost. Show them both she belongs to me. I know my jealousy is irrational but the thought of her with someone else drives me crazy.

  I stand there watching the two of them like some obsessed stalker, and hope the sunglasses I’m wearing hide who my eyes are locked on. I grip the deck railing with my free hand when she walks in my direction. She passes by without acknowledging me, which is nothing new. I’m not sure what it is about us, but we’ve been like this since day one. When we’re together, we’re combustible like gasoline and fire, so we keep our distance. I know I’m not imagining it. She feels it too. I knock back the rest of my beer and toss the bottle in the recycling bin. Time for some fun.

  I push my sunglasses up on my head when I enter their house. I find Kenna in the kitchen peering into the refrigerator. The towel she was using is now on the kitchen island and she’s standing in front of me in only her red bikini. Those little bows on each side of her hips have been teasing me all day. They’re definitely thought provoking. I’ve been imagining what would happen if I pulled on each string and slowly unraveled them.

  I silently move forward on my bare feet until my chest is pressed against her back.

  “Oh.” She jumps with surprise. She looks over her shoulder at me. “I didn’t hear you, Derek.” I reach around her for a bottle of water; leaning my chest into her. She shudders at the contact and I smirk. She can’t hide how much I affect her, no matter how hard she tries.

  “Can you back up please?” she asks, keeping her gaze locked on the contents inside.

  “What’s wrong, Kenna?” I trail my index finger around the outer curve of her left ear and she shivers.

  “You’re in my personal space,” she answers, squeezing her eyes shut.

  “I enjoy being in your space though, Leoncita.” I lean close, run my nose up her neck and let my lips pause below her ear for a moment. Fuck. Her skin is so soft and the smell of chlorine mixed with the scent of her perfume is oddly enticing. Her breath hitches and her body goes rigid against me.

  “Why do you call me that? What does it mean?”

  I breathe in the scent of her. I can’t get enough. “It means little lioness. That’s what you remind me of with those golden eyes of yours.” Her breath hitches when my lips move against her ear. “Do I make you nervous, Kenna?” She shakes her head, her lips firmly pressed together. “No? Are you sure about that? My hand slides over her left hip, my fingers toy with the top of her bikini bottoms. “You seem really tense. Do you need someone to help you release all that tension?” My index finger dips down inside and skims along the smooth skin of her stomach. She gasps and my dick is instantly hard. I want to know what else I could do to make her react.

  With an unyielding grip on her hip I pull her back against my hard cock. A small moan escapes her lips when my finger moves lower and I have to clench my teeth together to stop myself from biting her neck. Following her in here doesn’t seem like it was such a good idea, right now. I step back away from her and put an arm’s length between us. She spins around to see what I’m doing and I can’t handle the way she’s looking at me, with so much emotion showing in her whiskey-colored eyes. I know she’s confused and scared by whatever this thing is between us. I’m fucking confused by it too. I want her more than I should and it can’t happen for so many reasons. The main one being she deserves so much better than me.

  “You’re biting off more than you can chew, little girl. You should stick to playing with boys your own age. You can’t handle what I’d want from you.”

  Anger flashes in her eyes, she steps toward me and grabs my hard cock through my board shorts. Fuck.

  “Looks like you’re the one who can’t handle me,” she seethes before releasing me and walking away.

  Chapter Four

  Derek

  Two weeks later

  I’ve been monitoring Scott Johnson’s whereabouts for the past few weeks now and his drug addiction is the least of what he’s involved with. He’s involved with some big time players and he’s way over his head. This pretty-boy wasn’t made for the life he’s chosen and it’s not going to end well for him. There’s only two possible outcomes for him. One, he gets arrested and does some time. If he’s lucky it serves as the wake-up call he needs and gets him detoxed at the same time. The second possibility is he’ll get himself killed or Paddy will order a hit on him. He doesn’t keep guys like Scott around for long and once he’s no longer
useful, he’s a loose thread he’ll need to do away with.

  I creep silently around the perimeter of the warehouse Scott disappeared into fifteen minutes ago. I was hoping he would come out right away, but he didn’t. I have a bad feeling about this. Some call it a sixth sense, others say I just have good instincts. I don’t know what it is but it’s always served me well. I’ve learned to trust it and I’ve come to rely on it. Right now it’s telling me this is no bueno. Cuidate la espalda – watch your back. My dad says this to me every time we talk on the phone or see each other. I hear his voice in my head now; cautioning me. I breathe in slowly to settle my racing pulse. I need to stay focused despite the adrenaline already racing through me. I hug the side of the building, staying close, my eyes scanning my surroundings. It’s dark out here and damn near impossible to see. I need to use all my senses to compensate.

  I inch closer to the nearest window until I can see inside. The glass is clouded with dirt and grime, but I can still make out the four guys with guns trained on Scott and some other guy I don’t know. Fuck. This isn’t going to end well. I pull out my cellphone and call it in to the police. This is a job for them to handle. I’m a private investigator, not a cop. I’m a crack shot, but I can’t outshoot four people without Scott or his buddy ending up as casualties. I don’t want their blood on my hands. I tuck my phone back into my pocket, take a step back and hear the click of a gun at my temple. My eyes instinctively squeeze shut. Fuck. How did I not hear him sneaking up on me?

  “Don’t move motherfucker,” he says, pressing the gun into my temple.

  There are few options a person has when faced with the business end of a gun at close range. Like most people, you can comply and do as you’re told, hoping for mercy and the chance to live beyond the moment. You can bide your time, hoping for an opportunity to arise or the circumstances to change. Unfortunately, I’ve never been the type who likes to leave my fate in another’s hands.