by Eden Winters
“Yeah. He talked all proper like.”
Did Landry sound proper? Not to Lucky’s ears.
“What did he sound like? Did he have an accent?”
Several moments of silence passed before Jeff said, “He had one of those weird thingies. You know, makes your voice sound like a machine or something.”
Back to square one. The call could’ve been from anyone, man or woman. Lucky’d still place his bet on Owen Landry.
“Why did you trust him? This stranger.” Sooner or later the guy would say something the detective—and Lucky—wanted to hear.
“We done things for him before.”
Oh, really? Lucky perked up. Would the next words out of the guy’s mouth close a few cold cases?
“What kind of things?” If Barfield’s curiosity piqued, she didn’t let it show.
The guy mumbled, hand over his mouth. “Just things. You know, errands.”
“Can you be more specific?” The detective might give a saint a run for the money on patience.
“He wanted us to follow somebody. Drive by his house and stuff. We didn’t even have to talk to the dude. Weird, but hell, we got paid for it.”
“Who is ‘us’? Do you mean your brother Alan?”
“Yeah. Look, is he okay? They took him in an ambulance. That bi… woman really roughed him up.”
Lucky turned to Bo. “If he calls my sister a bitch…”
“Shh…” Bo leaned toward Lucky and murmured, “Trust me. He’s going in a cell. He’ll pay.”
In the interrogation room the detective answered, “As soon as we’re finished here, I’ll find out for you.” Lucky would take on the entire office betting pool that she already knew. “Now, this house your client wanted you to drive by, what’s the address?”
“I can’t remember the house number, but it’s got a red door and shutters on Sweet Gum Court. Over by the new Walmart on the south side.” Ah, how helpful. “New neighborhood. Nice houses.”
Chastain’s house.
The officer tapped on her computer and turned the screen to face the kid. “Is this the man you followed?”
Bottom lip caught between his teeth, Jeff rose up and gazed at the image. Finally, he sank back into his chair. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“Why did your contact want you to follow this man?” Tap, tap, tap, went the detective’s fingers on the iPad.
Jeff shrugged. “Said the guy owed him or something, and he wanted to mess with his head.”
“Where were you on the afternoon of…”
Lucky shook his head. And that, folks, is how a two-bit criminal becomes a murder suspect.
CHAPTER 10
Bo snatched the phone away from Lucky in mid-swear. “I’m sorry, you have to understand that my partner is upset. Yes, his sister was attacked, and we’re all under a lot of stress. I’m the assistant director of the Southeastern Narcotics Bureau…”
Whereas Lucky’s redneck persuasion got him nowhere, in less than five minutes Bo hit mute and said, “You get more flies with honey.”
“Way to sling the title around.”
“I’ll use it while I have it.” Bo met Lucky’s eyes. “Yes, I know it probably won’t be mine for long.”
Bo held up a hand, indicating the person he spoke with returned. He unmuted the phone. “Are you sure? But… Yes, I understand.” He ended the call. “I shoulda let you keep talking to them. They can’t come out until next week. Until then, we’ll have to stick to our unmonitored system.”
A Jaguar pulled up into their driveway. A motherfucking Jaguar. Was the driver in the right neighborhood? Lucky reached for his ankle holster. No use shutting the door. The cheap piece of wood still hung from its hinges. Cruz hopped out of the car and bounded up the sidewalk. “I am so sorry. Is your sister all right? I hadn’t gotten my men in position yet.” He eyed the door.
“Charlotte’s fine,” Bo said. “A little shook up.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“As a matter of fact…” If Cruz felt guilty for promising protection he didn’t deliver, Lucky would make use of the guilt. “We can’t get a monitored security company out here until next week, and forget trying to find a contractor.” Lucky could install a new door and frame himself, but he’d be too busy digging a moat around the place.
“That I can do.” Cruz stepped away, holding his phone to one ear and jamming a finger in the other, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish. When he turned back around, he said, “Someone is coming to fix the door in twenty minutes. You’ll have your security system in an hour.”
Driving a Jaguar, snapping his fingers and folks came running. Lucky really should have considered the offer to work for Victor, but no, he couldn’t leave Bo for weeks on end. Not the life he wanted for himself or his family.
Lucky left Bo to answer Cruz’s questions and collapsed onto the ripped couch. Bo’s words came back to him, about using the job while he had it, because it wouldn’t be his for long.
Lucky had been so busy lately he hadn’t even thought to ask about the latest on O’Donoghue’s power play. Walter insisted the asshole wasn’t behind the position shuffle at work. Even the office betting pool knew better.
A car door slammed outside and the Jaguar backed out of the driveway.
Bo busied himself picking up pieces of the coffee table and shoving them into a box. He’d not sat still for two seconds all afternoon.
Lucky knelt beside him on the floor. “Are you okay? Getting screwed over by O’Donoghue, I mean.”
“It’s a job, Lucky. As long as people are treated fairly and we’re doing what we’re supposed to do, I don’t care about titles.” Bo stopped midmotion, but didn’t look up. The better to lie and not get called out.
Lucky wouldn’t call him out. Bo’d been through one hell of a lot today, just like Lucky. If he chose denial as a coping mechanism, Lucky had his back. “Well, and getting a paycheck.” One they’d need now more than ever with furniture and rugs to replace. Not to mention Moose’s vet bill. The high deductible on his homeowner’s policy meant smaller expenses came out of pocket. Then again, did the policy even cover breaking and entering?
Bo ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, that too. Anyway, the new system will be monitored, and if anything suspicious happens, Charlotte, or any of us, just have to hit a panic button.” If anything tripped the sensors, the security company would call. Panic button? Send the cops.
Lucky had dealt with monitored systems before, but always thought their own system adequate enough. It squawked if someone broke in, right? Alerting the people in the house and no one else.
“She has to remember to keep the system on.” Their self-monitored system didn’t work very well if Charlotte didn’t set it during the day. The monitored system wouldn’t either.
“Who would’ve thought anyone could get through the damned gate? We can’t half the time. And to pull up into the driveway, bold as brass.” Bo dragged his fingers through his hair. “I know you don’t like them, but there will be cameras in the living room and on all outside doors. We’re contacting the windows. We’ll just have to remember to turn off the system to open a window or a door, and set the system on ‘stay’ mode if we’re home.” If someone opened the window and broke a contact, alarms sounded and the security company would call.
Lucky could see a lot of accidents happening. Oh well, better safe.
A whole lot of necessary inconvenience to keep the family safe. “What about the pets?” Lucky would hate to pen Moose and Cat Lucky up in a bedroom when they weren’t home.
Moose would climb on the bed and take a nap, but Cat Lucky might retaliate by smothering them in their sleep. Or making everything in the house fair game as a scratch toy.
“They make sensors that allow for animals up to sixty pounds. We’ll have to keep Moose outside or in Ty’s room if we’re out. The days are getting warmer, so Moose can stay in the back yard more.”
Was there a way to secure the back yard?
When Charlotte returned from the Smiths’ with Andro and Ty, Bo sat everyone down at the kitchen table, explained how the security system worked, and assigned personal activation codes while munching on the pizza Charlotte brought. Rett, who’d acted as Charlotte’s bodyguard for her dangerous trip to Pizza Shack, snagged a slice of meat lovers and left for home.
Lucky watched his sister’s every move. How close he’d come to losing her today. Yes, he’d swallow his pride and pay a monitoring company for extra security, even though a primitive part of his brain screamed about privacy. Anything to keep his family safe.
The new steel front door left something to be desired looks-wise, but wouldn’t easily break.
“I still think a Smith and Wesson works better,” Charlotte grumbled.
“Yes, but we’re trying to ensure they don’t get within firing range.” Bo bit into a bread stick.
“I think I should have my own gun,” Ty added. “For protection.”
“You have us as bodyguards. How much safer can you get?” His mother snapped, “You’re not getting a gun until you’re older and pass a safety course.”
Which, of course, led to Bo bringing out his computer and enrolling Ty in a local program. “It never hurts to know gun safety.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to be short with you. I’m tired, and miserable, and pregnant, and worried for Moose. Poor baby. All alone and hurting in a strange place.” Charlotte hugged her son.
Ty let out an “Ack!” of protest, but didn’t pull away.
Now wasn’t the time for Lucky to question his sister about her association with Salters. He didn’t like the man going behind his back, but… not the time.
Bo had reminded him, promising nights spent alone on the couch if Lucky didn’t act civilized. A couch now sporting a layer of duct tape over the rip up the back.
Civilized. Bah. Overrated.
They cleaned the kitchen and, one by one, drifted away, Ty to his room, Charlotte to her apartment in what used to be the garage, and Bo to give Andro a bath and put him to bed.
Lucky reviewed the pamphlets on the security system, and sat on the living room couch with his gun. The bastards had the nerve to break into his house and try to take his sister. His eyes kept straying to the places where rugs and tables used to take up space.
He and Bo had thrown them all away. They’d picked those rugs out together, when they’d first moved in. Stained now with Moose’s blood. Sure, he could’ve had them cleaned, but he didn’t want anyone in the family having a reminder of today.
All because he’d pissed someone off. Would the situation repeat if Charlotte was involved with Salters, and he made enemies?
Are you afraid yet? You should be.
Life had been safer as a drug trafficker.
“Lucky?”
Lucky startled awake. When had he fallen asleep? He peeled his face away from the fake leather of the couch. Ow! That’d leave a mark.
Bo stood before him wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, slung low on his hips. He still had his runner’s build, though he didn’t run nearly as much these days as when they’d first met. Neither did Lucky.
Fewer demons to run from.
Bo held out his hand. “Lucky, it’s one in the morning. Come to bed. The system’s set. We’re safe.” He wriggled his fingers. “Give me the gun. With kids around, you can’t fall asleep with one on your lap.”
What a stupid thing to do. Lucky handed Bo his .38 and groaned while rising to his feet. He’d better keep on Bo’s good side. He’d hate to have to sleep on the couch long-term.
“I’ll lock this in the safe. You get ready for bed.”
“But what if…”
Bo held up the remote for the security system, which he’d demonstrated earlier. “Then we hit the panic button, and open the safe in the bedside table. It’s a four-digit code. Won’t take but a second.”
“But…”
“But nothing.” Bo grabbed a handful of Lucky’s T-Shirt and yanked him forward into a slow kiss.
Hello. Who needed sleep?
“Now, go get clean and come to bed.”
Lucky took a quick shower and expected a sleeping Bo when he crawled into bed.
Bo sat, back against the headboard, the soft glow of the bedside lamp lighting his familiar features. What a beautiful man, slightly crooked nose and all. Lucky knew every nook and cranny of his lover’s body, every freckle. But one couldn’t be too sure. Maybe he should map out all that skin again, to make certain nothing changed.
One look conveyed more than words. Lucky dropped the towel from around his waist and approached the bed. Bo peeled back the covers, revealing his naked body, uncut cock slowly rising to say hello.
Dear God, but Lucky needed this, needed Bo.
Lucky sank onto his belly on the bed, shifting one knee up to give his cock room to grow, and lowered his head, breathing in soap and Bo. He licked up Bo’s shaft, making it jump and harden further. So much fun to play with.
If Bo meant to distract him, he couldn’t have thought up a better way.
Rolling Bo’s balls in one hand, Lucky skimmed back foreskin with the other, leaning down to taste the drop of fluid at the tip of Bo’s cock.
Bo gasped, throwing his head back and thrusting his hips. If he thought that was something…
Lucky wrapped his lips around the head, swirling his tongue over the tip. Yes, they needed sleep, but Saturday meant they could take their time.
Or as much time as Boss Andro allowed. Bo weaved his hands into Lucky’s hair, gripping the back of his head and urging him on with barely restrained pressure.
So, Lucky wasn’t the only one feeling the need. So much stress, adrenaline, and fear today. The emotional rollercoaster left Lucky floundering, needing something—someone—solid to cling to. He lifted his mouth off Bo’s cock.
Bo whimpered. “Tease!”
Lucky chuckled, lowering his head to take Bo’s balls into his mouth, first one, then the other, rolling them with his tongue. No time to dwell on fears now. Not with Bo to anchor him.
“Of course, that’s nice too,” Bo said, though he didn’t slacken the pressure on Lucky’s skull.
Lucky sank down onto Bo’s cock, bobbing up and down a few slow strokes, a few fast ones, then slow again.
Bo hissed and writhed on the bed, fingers spasming rhythmically against Lucky’s scalp. Oh, yeah, Lucky knew what to do, how to get little gasps and pants out of his man, how to make Bo’s toes curl, have him fisting the sheets.
Lucky released Bo’s cock to slap against his abs, climbed up, and straddled his body. Staring down at the sleep-tousled vision lying in their bed still took Lucky’s breath away. His own cock demanded attention, but he wouldn’t rush, not when he seldom had Bo to himself these days without something else demanding their time.
Right now, Bo was all his. He’d take full advantage.
He leaned down and kissed Bo’s chin, hissing in pleasure when their cocks rubbed together. So good, touching him, feeling the firmness of Bo’s body beneath his. Soft curls teased Lucky’s fingertips as he ran his hands over Bo’s chest, pausing to rub his thumbs over tightening nipples.
Again, and again, he shifted his weight, creating delicious friction between them.
Without a word, Bo reached into the bedside table and pulled out the lube. Lucky held out his hand, and Bo pumped the bottle, even the amount a silent communication of what came next. Bo required less than Lucky and liked a bit of burn, so two pumps meant the lube went on Lucky’s dick.
Lucky stroked the slickness over his erection and reached down, working his fingers into Bo’s opening, stretching the muscles; preparing him for something larger.
Bo gripped Lucky’s biceps, straining upward, while welcoming the fingertips into his body. Only a tight hold on his desire kept Lucky from rushing, putting himself where he wanted to be and ending things too quickly.
Sliding back down, he positioned himself between Bo’s spread thighs. Bo lifte
d his legs, presenting himself and squeezing Lucky’s sides with his legs in the process.
Lucky lined himself up, staring into Bo’s deep brown eyes, and slowly sank inside. “Oh, damn,” he murmured on a groan. Oh. Hell. Yeah.
Bo tightened his grip with his legs, urging Lucky on. He rose up while bringing Lucky’s head down for a fervent kiss. His moan vibrated against Lucky’s tongue, and Lucky snapped his hips.
They rocked, but gently, the occasional squeak of the bed, their panted breaths, moans, groans, and quiet cursing, the music of their loving.
They moved together in practiced motions, in their own private dance. A hand over skin, muscles rippling, all part of the way they loved.
The tempo faltered, Bo tensing and Lucky’s body making demands of more, more, faster, faster.
His thoughts fizzled out, the primal part of his brain taking over.
Tingles along his skin, pressure deep within. All finesse lost.
Holding his weight on his arms, he thrust into Bo. Bo clutched Lucky’s ass, pulling him in.
“Oh, fuck yeah!” Bo cried through clenched teeth.
Over, and over, and over.
“Gonna cum,” Bo exclaimed, digging between their bodies to stroke his cock. “Oh damn, oh, damn, oh da…”
Lucky’s body screamed, “Yes!” and let go. He kept his rhythm as best he could while falling over the edge, the part of his brain not completely fuzzed out recalling Bo needed release too.
He came back to himself, stretched half-on and half-off Bo’s body, a steady heartbeat pounding against his ear and Bo’s arms around his back. The mess on Bo’s abs said he’d cum too.
Safe. Bo made him feel so safe. Wasn’t Lucky supposed to provide the same feeling of security for his family?
For now, he enjoyed the warmth, the safety, the completeness of his life.
And slept.
He awoke an hour later, carefully unglued himself from a sleeping Bo, and spent the rest of the night patrolling the house.
CHAPTER 11
