by A. J. Macey
“Dude, did you seriously do a job while we’re here?” I hissed after yanking his arm and pulling him away from his conversation.
“Hell no, that wasn’t me,” he murmured back, “they’re saying it’s The Cat.” I couldn’t stop my jaw from falling open at the news. “Now, I’m going back into the crowd, so I don’t draw any attention to myself. I suggest you do the same.” What the hell happened to her? I’d rather find her and make sure she’s okay instead of keeping my own rep clean and out of the range of Frankie’s radar.
The main entryway had a few people standing around and talking in a small group, but for the most part they left me alone as I made my way into the empty hallway leading to Kiera’s wing of the house. Lorenzo wasn’t standing guard, so I turned the knob and walked into her room. She was crouched down by the wall where a small wood panel had been removed to reveal a little alcove. Out of curiosity, I walked closer, my footsteps more cautious than normal so I could come up behind her before she noticed.
“What the…” I breathed when I saw an array of jewels and a stack of business cards with… a black paw print in the center. “Holy fucking shit...you...you’re The Cat?”
“Shh!” She jumped up to press her fingers against my lips. “You’d be a fucking terrible thief,” she whispered, “you never know who’s listening, so keep your damned mouth shut about it; otherwise, you’ll get me caught. Also, I’ll beat the shit out of you if you fucking snitch.” Her eyes pleaded with me as she talked, clearly unaware that I wasn’t on the right side of the law either.
“I won’t say anything. I mean, I’m a prospect for The Aces, so it’s not like I want any attention from the law,” I countered before scoffing, her fingers falling from my lips to land on her hips. “And do you even know how to fight well enough to beat the shit out of me?”
“I’m not bad,” she argued with a tiny shrug, but her confident mask slipped just enough to tell me she wasn’t sold on her ability to fight.
“How about I teach you,” I suggested, surprising even myself with the offer. If the vibe I’m getting from her father and Lorenzo is correct, she’ll need as much help as possible. “Jace and I have been fight training for years.” She perked up, but her eyes narrowed as if she was suspicious about my help.
“What do you want in return?” she murmured.
“Nothing.” Which was true enough. I ignored the tiny voice in my head that told me the only reason I was eager to help her was so I’d get to be around her, sweaty and totally hands-on.You know you want to even if you pretend it isn’t the reason why, you liar, my mind whispered.
“Alright,” she hesitantly agreed after a long silence. “When do we start?”
Several long and tedious hours later, the party finally came to a close and the guests slowly filtered out of Frank’s mansion. Kiera was escorted back to her room while Jace had left a half hour ago. I was making my way down the hall from the kitchen, having snatched a few bags of leftovers to take back to the compound with me, when I heard Frank’s voice talking to someone in one of the side rooms.
“How is the schedule looking?” he questioned. With my curiosity piqued, I flattened against the wall to continue to eavesdrop, hoping to get some information on whatever the hell he was doing in his posh ivory tower.
“You have your trip to Italy, and before you go Kiera has a scheduled session that will go up while you’re gone,” Lorenzo’s slimy words coated me as I listened. My jaw clenching at the mention of Kiera. Scheduled session? The sound of them shuffling towards the door startled me into action, and I practically ran down the hall and out into the drive where the same car was waiting for me.
My mind raced as the car made its way back to the compound. What the hell does that mean? What does Frank do? Why is he going to Italy? Round and round my thoughts spiraled rotating between Kiera’s mossy eyes and naked body and Frank’s mysterious business. Before I realized it, I was already back at the entrance of The Aces MC compound. I need a fucking drink, I thought as I tossed the food into the fridge and changed out of the stupid monkey suit into jeans, t-shirt, and my prospect cut before heading to the clubhouse.
The party was in full swing, the music loud and thumping as the members were hitting it up with the hang-arounds. The bartender poured my drink after I practically shouted it over the noise in the place, and I took the glass with me over to one of the open chairs. The president, Brooks ‘Boss’ Abbott, was seated with a hang-around practically hanging off of his arm, her tits smashing into him as she batted her lashes desperately. Boss’s second in command, Stone ‘Grave’ Ronin, sat stoic and quiet on the other side of him, his harsh scowl and steely eyes keeping anyone away from him. The vice president, Vernon ‘Brakes’ Charles, was passed out on the floor, a bottle of his favorite booze emptied next to his prone form.
“Hey, Garrett,” Boss greeted with a respectful nod, “how was the lavish party?” The girl on his arm perked up and glanced at me at the mention of ‘lavish party’.
“Stuffy,” I shouted back, “lots of rich assholes and pearl clutching wives.” He nodded with a smirk as the hang-around continued to stare at me with her fake as fuck eyelashes.
“Well, I know the best solution to that,” she purred, strutting over to me and placing her hands on my thighs. She bent at the waist until her ass stuck out for Boss and her low cut top gave me a full view of her fake tits. “Come back to one of the rooms with me, Baby.” Not even the flirty smile or tiny shake of her shoulders could get me hard, my mind focusing only on the differences between the woman and Kiera. God fucking damn it, that little kitten has clawed her way into my mind and won’t leave, I thought as I shook my head.
“Maybe later, I have to talk to Boss.” I attempted to let her down easy, hoping she would leave me the hell alone since the questions burning in my head continued to buzz. She shrugged and shifted her focus to another member.
“What do you need to talk about?” Brooks’ brow furrowed as he took a sip of his drink. I leaned forward to brace my elbows on my legs.
“There was lots of talk at the party tonight about The Cat and Frank Casterelli,” I explained, fudging the truth enough to keep Kiera and my shit soon-to-be stepfather out of The Aces’ sights. “What do you know about them?”
“Frankie ‘Smokes’?” Stone ground out, and my chest squeezed at the blatant surprise on his face at the mention of Kiera’s father. I nodded, keeping my face flat. “He’s an ex-hit man, now he runs the Solace Mob over at the casino and resort.”
“The Cat, on the other hand,” Brooks took over giving me no time to truly process that Kiera’s father was the mob boss of the majority of the Nevada underground. “No one knows anything about him other than he drops the white card with the signature black paw print. He’s had some pretty ballsy lifts since he arrived on the scene in 2006 or 2007. No one has any idea who he is even after almost 7 years.”
“Yeah, I didn’t know much about them when I was there, so I was just curious,” I explained blandly, keeping my mouth shut like Kiera asked. Sitting back, I focused on drinking my whiskey. I spent the entire night trying to get the party and what I had learned out of my head, but I ended up going home alone an hour later, Kiera’s mossy eyes haunting me as I fell asleep.
Damn Kitten.
POV 2
“Tattoo”ly Yours- Kiera & Garrett
Spring 2014
Kiera
(Pre-Rival)
This is a terrible idea, my brain grumbled as I stared at the front of the parlor eyeing the art hanging in the windows. Steeling myself, since this was one of the rare times I knew I had more than an hour out of the house, I strode into the shop.
“Miss Kitty?” the burly man behind the counter asked, eyeing me with a raised bushy brow. Nodding, I stepped up to the glass case, the piercings on the black shelves within it winking in the overhead light. “Just need you to fill out this form, check your ID, and we can get started.”
Thank fuck for my fake I.D., I thought, knowing
I wouldn’t even turn seventeen for another two months. Pulling out the plastic card, I handed it over and filled out the form quickly. It took constant reminders to make sure I filled it out and signed it as Kira Kitty instead of Kiera Casterelli, but I managed.
“Alright, you’re ready to go. Just the spade? Any color?” the artist peppered me with questions as we headed towards the back room, nodding at my confirmation. I laid back against the flattened black pleather tattoo chair and unbuttoned my shorts. Shifting the waist of the denim down, I exposed my hip. He cleaned the area, placing the stencil until he liked where the placement was, both of us staying quiet until he got to work. “So, first tattoo?”
“Yeah, I’m planning on getting more, but I wanted to start small,” I explained, half-truthfully. I mean, it wasn’t a complete lie. I did want to start small, but I also wanted to get something meaningful before I decided to just get things I thought were pretty.
“Any particular reason for the spade?” he mumbled, focused on the line work. I clenched my jaw slightly as the needle buzzed over the bone, enjoying the sensation . of pleasure mixed with the hint of pain. I had to keep myself from moaning at it. Keep that jaw clenched, Kiera. Don’t freak out the nice tattoo artist by moaning on his table.
“It’s for someone who means a lot to me,” I explained softly, Garrett’s gruff attitude and sexy demeanor flashing in my brain before remembering how fired up, how angry he had been on my behalf when he found out about my sessions. No one had cared, not since my mother, and in that moment, I was grateful he had come into my life even if being around him meant being around Jace. The artist and I fell into silence, the buzzing from the tattoo machine the only noise surrounding us as my mind continued to think about my stepbrother. My chest warmed with soft emotions, but I shoved those away, purposefully ignoring all the warning signs away. What he never knows can’t hurt either of us. At least with this tattoo I’ll never forget I actually still matter to someone.
Garrett
“Finally getting some ink today? ‘Bout time, you look like a little boy with such plain skin,” Vernon, the VP, teased in a drunken slur. I bit my tongue and focused on finishing the adjustments to my bike. “You have fun, and if you get a woman’s name, make sure it’s generic enough to either work as your mama or another bitch.” He laughed, smacking me on the back and making me drop my tool. Thankfully it just clattered to the cement and not my bike; otherwise, I would have set his precious booze on fire.
As soon as the adjustments were done on my bike, I hopped on and rode off compound. I planned on getting my sleeves and other pieces done by the resident tattoo artist we had in the club, but for this first one I wanted to go somewhere else. I pulled into the shop and headed in.
“Hey, Garrett,” Travis greeted, his voice booming as he came out from the back room. “Just finished cleaning after my last appointment, so we’re all set to go if you want to come on back.” Nodding, I followed him. Taking off my patch holder cut and shirt, I laid them over the back of one of the chairs in the corner. As I laid down, the smallest hint of berry and grease reached me, reminding me of Kiera, but I shook my head to clear away my fixation with her. You’re just a fucking sap, I told myself. You know she’s probably locked away in her posh ivory tower or playing thief at some neighbor’s estate. It was already pathetic enough knowing I was getting Kiera’s signature paw print, but I didn’t want anything else permanently marked on my body until I had it.
Yeah, you may be thinking ‘how ridiculous’ since we’ve only known each other for a few months, but hear me out, people- she’s the strongest fucking person I have ever met and if she could survive that hell?
Then I can survive anything too.
POV 3
Cat Scratch Fever
**please note: the spoiler scene to be read after Adversary is starred**
October 11th, 2018
Thursday Midday
Chase
(Rival- Chapter 2 Flashback)
The ding of the microwave filled the space, pulling my attention from my computer. Gingerly carrying the hot plastic tray to my desk, I dropped it on the top with a few select, colorful words as I blew on my fingers. Sinking into my chair, my fingers flew across the keys as I pulled up my messages.
Ah, a new job, I perked up quickly as I scanned the information. Not a whole lot of prep time, but I could make it work. Picking up my quick dinner, I shoveled it into my mouth as I walked over to my closet. I alternated eating and pulling out my equipment, mentally running over the information from the message.
Female.
22 years old.
Cotech Security System, model VT105.
Possibly armed.
Lives alone.
10 million dollar payout.
Alias: The Cat.
“Easy peasy,” I hummed with a shrug. “I don’t think one little kittycat will put up too much of a fight.”
If only I knew how wrong I was.
October 13th
Saturday Night
Chase
Hm, she sure likes her security, I thought as I finished fucking with the wires. Shuffling to the front of the house, I checked my weapon one last time before letting myself slip easily into my work mindset.
A cold blanket took over, and my smile shifted from cheerful to a cruel smirk as I made my way into the house. ***Ciar was very pleased, the hunt exciting him beyond compare and for once it seemed like we might have a worthy opponent. The Cat was famous, known for being able to take whatever she wanted whenever she wanted.
“We’ll just see how she fares against us,” Ciar snapped, “in case you forgot we are just as famous as she is.” I rolled my eyes at his brashness, content to let him be his normal prickly self as we stepped into the hall.
Immediately as we crossed the threshold, an alarm flared deeper within the house. Hm, really likes her security it would seem. It didn’t take long until a lean woman darted into the other opening of the hall.
She was gorgeous, every inch of skin on her body except her face and one side of her neck was covered in tattoos. Lean muscles, pouty kissable lips, and long dirty blond hair held our attention. Ciar though, wanted nothing more than to chase, to feel the adrenaline pulse through us as we caught the little kitty.
“We’re the cat, and she’s the dove,” Ciar snapped. “Regardless of how fuckable she is,” he tacked onto the end. I mentally rolled my eyes.
“I can at least enjoy the view for a little longer before we kill her,” I thought back, but right as we raised our weapons, she darted down a hall, our shot going wide.
Damn, the woman is faster than she looks.
“Oh, Kiera,” Ciar called out, his voice taunting and cruel as he strode down the hallway. Our gaze darting around us as we watched for any possible attack from the little kittycat. The issue though, was that we hadn’t expected her to be laying in wait at the end of the hall, two punches taking us by surprise.
But we’re not just some chum who waltzed in from the streets.
We’re Skill Shot and we quickly gained control of our gun that she had grabbed but the sneaky little brat ducked, elbowing us as she darted away again.
“Fucking shit,” Ciar sneered as we prowled around. “Get your head in the game, Chase.”
“My head is in the game, asshat,” I snapped back. “This isn’t exactly the first time I’ve seen a woman you know, though the way you’re off your game makes me think you haven’t seen one.” I could feel his anger pulsing through the darkened cloud, the stoicism he prided himself of sorely lacking this evening and the only possible reasoning could be one tatted up mark with the lips I wanted to kiss the fuck out of. What I would do to have her under me, I groaned, the adrenaline of the chase mixing with intoxicating thrill of desire. It was odd, the urge to want someone when I never had before, but I was quickly finding myself liking the sensation.
“Fuck off, and stop picturing her legs spread wide, you’re fucking up my concentration,” he growled to me before sin
ging out, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Everything happened at once, Ciar’s cruel smirk widening as The Cat popped up from behind the counter. The wrestle for our weapon was quick, and soon enough, the cold barrel of her gun pressed into our hard cock as we trapped her between us and the counter.
“I would watch your next move, assassin. I might slip and blow off the family jewels, and that would be a travesty,” she taunted, her husky voice only serving to fuel the fire I felt building in our veins. Ciar was silent, assessing as he stared at her intensely. Waiting in the shadows, I felt my eyes narrow. What was he waiting for? I wondered, we could have had the job over with by now, but he was hesitating.
“You’re much more fun than my other marks,” Ciar murmured, leaning forward and sniffing along her jaw. Grease and berries assaulted us, the scent nearly bringing me to my knees as I felt her tits brush against us. I wanted to run my hands over her lean muscles, and succulent curves, but Ciar still held control. I knew why I wasn’t necessarily pushing to finish the job, but Ciar… I wasn’t sure what he was doing because the bastard was shielding his thoughts from me. “None of those bastards fought back. They all whined and moaned like little bitches.”
“I won’t ever beg for mercy,” she whispered. Her words were breathy, nearly a moan on her lips. Pulling back to look at her, Ciar finally let some of his control slip. As soon as he did so, my emotions rocked, swirling as I realized what Ciar was feeling.
Need and desire.
Curiosity.
And above all else, resistance.
Ciar didn’t want to kill her.
“Aww, the cold-blooded assassin has a soft spot for the little kittycat,” I teased.
