“Everything alright, Boss? Something complicate one of your hits, or is she a new target? Let me know, I’m your man. Whatever you need,” he told me efficiently, a hint of his French accent coming through.
“Chris, come now, have you ever known me to cock up a hit?” I felt bad. I knew my attitude wasn’t exactly the best in this moment, but Chris knew better. It wasn’t as though I were the nicest guy outside this building anyway. “This is personal. Not Nightshade bullshit. Track her down. I want info. I want her schedule, her job, her address, her bloody name for fuck’s sake, all of it!” Alright, I may have escalated pretty quickly on that last bit…
He cleared his throat, in a bit of shock, I think. I sighed and waited with a roll of my eyes. “Alright, Boss, I’m on it. I’ll be in touch this evening with anything I come up with by th-”
“You get me the shit I want, I will give you one hell of a bonus,” I emphasized. “You know I’m good for it.” He whistled, and I could practically hear the bloody grin on his face.
“Sounds like your own number is up, then, Boss?” he chuckled. “This is just rich, can’t wait to see what this girl must look like to have earned his majesty’s attention,” he said in amusement. I clenched my jaw in irritation. I think we can all agree that there is a certain bit of courage we allow ourselves on a telephone that we may not possess were we speaking face-to-face, correct? Chris was mighty courageous.
“Chris…”
“Sorry, couldn’t resist. I’m on it.” He had no real reason to fear me as we were too close, but it didn’t change the fact that I was one dick you didn’t want to piss off. The fact that I could still hear the smile in his tone had me fighting one of my own.
I hung up and walked to the windows, looking down at the ant-like people milling around below on their lunch breaks. Was she down there now? Was she only so many floors below me? Wherever she was, whoever she was, I hoped that I would know by tonight. Patience would just have to be the order of the day, and it was all I could do to wait until then.
CHAPTER 1
Nearly Two Years Later
I sighed in complete exasperation. I hated dealing with any kind of shit on my Sunday mornings. Sundays were mine. The day for simply holding to any shred of humanity I might still have left since this bullshit with Nightshade had completely overtaken my bloody life. It didn’t used to be like this in the beginning. Hell, this damn year was taking its toll on me, and I was finding it hard to be cordial anymore. The hospital visits were the only thing keeping me from flipping out and losing it on this son of a bitch on the damn phone with me now.
“Ray, Tom tells me you fucked with one of the servers. You fuck with one of them, you’re fucking with me. You know that. Says she put in for a different shift so as not to be harassed anymore. I will not tolerate shit that does not pertain to our actual business at hand, and I am not tolerant of your distraction when we are neck-deep in this damn deal! You are not to go into the bar again without me or my strict permission, understood?!” I shouted into the phone. I was hardened for sure. I needed to see my sweet little Anabelle who was so soothing, keeping reality of the value of life at the forefront as she fought so bravely for her own.
I heard him sigh, and I knew he wanted to pop off, but he wisely kept his damn self in check. “Yes, Boss. No more.” Good minion. Still didn’t feel good enough, though.
“I mean it, Ray, you keep your damn dick in your pants, otherwise I might just have to cut that shit off when I straighten your ass out if it happens again,” I told him, and I heard his choked cough as he knew I meant every bloody word. I didn’t make empty threats. It was a widely known fact about Mr. King. I ran my finger along my lower lip in thought. “Eh, maybe I will let you keep that and take your balls instead. After all, only a man with no balls gets off on harassing a woman the way Tom claims you did, enough of this shit. You are dismissed. Do not make me get involved, you prick. I mean it.”
I sat back in my dining room chair and rested my feet in the one across from me as I clenched my jaw in irritation. My back hurt from my bone marrow recovery, and I shouldn’t be doing any of the hard shit for at least two more weeks. My damn coffee would probably be cold by the time he had the balls to answer me, still I waited… my eyes narrowing, my finger moving about my lip as I kept my whole body in check even as I was ready to explode.
“Alright! Yes, Klive! Shit…” he pushed foolishly. I lifted my finger from my lip and snapped them with a smug smile.
“Perfect, I will be sending my guys to pick you up and bring you over so I can remove one for the tone you so foolishly took with me.” I hung up on him and pushed both hands through my hair in complete frustration before sending a text to my muscle. I bet Ray was looking for a quick escape about now if he knew what the hell was good for him. Stupid! We were so close! I only needed him through April, if I could just hold off on killing him until then it would be a bloody miracle. That asshole had gone from being my valuable second hand man to a complete pain in my ass as he let the “power” go to his head in his standing with me. Cocky and arrogant in his threats. Normally I was fine with that when it came to the shit that got in our way or just getting the job done in general. This? No, this was not alright. He was developing into a bloody monster if he thought it was in any way alright to fuck with a woman that way. It made me uncomfortable, especially where he was concerned considering the ways I’d seen him treat a whore. Always pushing that envelope just a little further than I was comfortable with. I didn’t want to know what that sick asshole might be capable of…
I went ahead and called Joey to be ready to move into Ray’s position for the moment I was done with his skanky shit. After all, maybe I’d end up killing him instead if I felt the situation merited such action? That poor girl. At the bar, no less. Ray could only have a death wish. What else could it be?
Naturally, Joey got onto me for taking this on when I was still recovering. He volunteered to do the dirty work while I called the shots. I agreed it was smarter. Joey wasn’t Nightshade, but I still looked at him as a lieutenant of sorts. He was my bodyguard, a trained hitman by none other than yours truly, and above all, one of the few men I allowed myself to be close enough to that I called a friend. I didn’t make many of those in the line of business I was in outside of the office. I was far better at making frienemies in the underground. They all served their purpose, and in return, I allowed them to keep their lives and say they were on good terms with me so as to improve their clout and standing when it came to underground hierarchy. My surname might just give you a hint at where I was in my own ranking. You didn’t make me your enemy, and those who did didn’t last long enough to hold a grudge.
Maybe I would still be able to salvage this day if we could straighten Ray out quickly enough. Should I cut one of his balls off this time, or should I just give him one hell of a beating that he may not forget? I flipped open the velvet ring box to examine the ring I had bought for Anabelle, and a glimpse of my heart came through. I sighed heavily again, resigning to leave his balls intact this time. The extra bloodshed would only take my time away from her, and it was bad enough that this was already going to bleed into that time as it was. Sunday is my damn day off for goodness sakes! Is nothing sacred?!
My phone rang just as I was getting up to make a fresh cup of coffee, and I relaxed when I saw that it was Chris, who also happened to be Joey’s real boss, by the way. “Hey! What’s up, Chris?” I smiled automatically.
“How much do you love me?” he asked, and I could hear the grin in his triumphant tone. Hmmm…. what the hell could he be so chipper about, especially this early on a weekend…
“Is that rhetorical?” I chuckled. He did, too.
“You have your paper already?” he asked me. I creased my brow in questioning confusion. “I will take your silence as a no. Go out to your driveway and open it up to page six, you may thank me later. I accept gifts in the form of cash, check, or credit, as well as the ones that are
thoughtful and given with love. Since you don’t have any love in that black heart, that one is void, although you might afterward… hit me up, let me know later,” he said happily. Damn, he was in a great mood, and it was completely infectious.
“Alright, I will try to keep that in mind, thanks, Chris,” I told him with a genuinely warm smile plastered to my face. I hung up and pulled my robe on. After all, it could be dangerous to tease the desperate housewives with all this eye candy if I brave the suburban outdoors in nothing more than my pajama pants. I chuckled to myself, feeling surprisingly excited. Maybe because Chris simply never allowed that side of himself out too often, so this had to be good.
I politely waved and greeted a couple of jogging women as I carried my paper inside, seriously glad for the robe, all joking aside. My name and face was not only notorious in the underground, but famous above it for reasons that women wanted to desperately sink their teeth and claws into me for. Back in the solace of my house, I set the paper onto the table and collected my fresh cup of coffee. I took a soothing sip and relished in the warmth traveling all the way down to my stomach as it helped me to calm and come to life. After all, I was going to need to be alert and ready to watch Joe beat the shit out of Ray in a little bit anyway. Alright, enough about that. Onto this surprise.
I unfolded the paper and pulled all the extra junk out, making sure to leave the coupons for my housekeeper. I opened the paper to page six, but didn’t really see anything of striking surprise. “The college sports section? What the hell would he want me reading this section for?” I muttered in confusion as I scanned while I took another drink of coffee. “Holy shit!!!” I exclaimed as I damn near spilled my coffee all over myself and had to beat my chest to clear the coffee I had just choked down the wrong tube in my shock. There she was! The bloody girl from the lift almost two whole years ago!
RUN, KINSLEY, RUN
IF YOU ARE A FAN OF TRACK you will kick yourself if you do not watch this local young woman in action before she graduates in June. Kinsley James, current record holder for one of the fastest sprints amongst the college women’s division, is a rare talent to grace this small town.
Kinsley James! That’s her name? My girl!
James?
Shit, was she related to Andrew James? As in five floors down, works with my friend John, the bloody daughter I’d almost been shown a picture of? No way! It made sense, though… Damn it, if only I’d allowed him to pull that picture a year ago when I’d first met the man at lunch with my friend, his sales rep. She had been right under my nose! No wonder John had a crush on her! Good taste, mate…
Kinsley… hmmm… how pretty. Fitting. Goes rather well with King if you ask me. Kinsley King. I scoffed bitterly. As if I would ever really afford the chance to even marry, let alone win her heart. My contract is up soon… maybe if I can woo that guy Jase into taking my position… after all he has the damn balls and background for what this takes. At least on paper. Still needed to scout him out, though, get a personal feel for him. Rather convenient that he sang at the bar twice a week, and I was a big fan of live music. Jase Taylor was one of the best around.
I closed my eyes and allowed her sweet presence to overtake me once again for the first time in months. Kinsley. After Chris had called me that evening with the most bloody disappointing news that the cameras were down for replacement everywhere but the parking garage in my building, I had tried putting that dream to rest. Not before examining the footage of her walking to her car in the garage. Unfortunately, it had paper tags. It just seemed as though the odds were stacked against me. All I knew of the exotic redhead was that she drove a little Civic and was completely everything I wanted. I sometimes watched the footage of that pretty woman walking to and from her car before I went to bed, or for the occasional dirty shower time to keep her image fresh, although, in truth, I never forgot it. It was the type of memory I had been blessed with. I never forgot a face or name once it was entered into my mind, hence the reason I’d been working my ass off to memorize her in that lift. I never forgot the small creases at the corners of her big eyes when she’d smiled, the slope of her nose, the gloss on her lips, the sound of her voice, the smell of her perfume. The way her dress moved around the stems of her beautiful legs like wilting flower petals caressing skin that was sure to be as soft as the petal of a rose. I especially loved when her dress was lifted by a heavy breeze in that parking garage, and she’d pulled the Marilyn Monroe to push it down with open panic on her face as she’d looked around to see if anyone else had spotted it. Nope. Just the lucky man who watched the footage. The quality obviously had enough clarity that Chris was able to recognize her in the paper that I was reading now. There was no doubt.
She was so damn hot in her track uniform! Even in black and white! It was like a second skin, bared and impressively toned midriff, and the shorts were glorified panties, really. I would definitely be going to watch this little woman in person at her first track meet! This was fantastic! No wonder her legs were so amazing, she obviously worked the hell out of them in order to be such an accomplished runner. Her hand was on her hip, and the other forearm was wiping sweat from her forehead as she walked off the track. Another of her with a whole slew of medals around her neck while she beamed at a teammate warmed my previously cool heart. There’s that smile that had stolen my balls in the first place! Wonder where she kept them, I thought with a laugh. I couldn’t help but wonder exactly how many other pairs of balls she had a hold of. The caption said she was twenty-four. Hmmm… so she had been merely twenty-two years old when I’d handed my balls to her in the lift, then. Not as young as I’d originally thought her to be, but still way too young for me at the time. Mid twenties was not quite so scandalous as early twenties would have been had I had the luxury of taking a shot at her back then. I might just have a bloody shot at her now if I was bold enough to take one… Imagine that. Klive King taking a shot at someone, no scope necessary, hehehe…
I called off Ray’s shit today with a threat that I’d better not have to pull him in or else. I called Chris back, and he chuckled as he told me he was already on gathering all her info and would be emailing it this afternoon. He would definitely be getting a fantastic gift with a lot of damn love in it for sure. Perhaps it should include a shiny key fob and a bazillion horses?
This left me with plenty of time to go visit my sweet little Anabelle, so I quickly finished my coffee and cut out Kinsley’s article, setting it on my bed while I walked into my closet to pull on some designer faded jeans, a white tee, and a maroon V-neck sweater over top of it. I sculpted my hair, but didn’t bother shaving today since my time had already been cut into as it was. I pulled on some nice boots and tossed my keys, catching them playfully before getting into my brand spankin’ new Audi RS7. The brightest white, darkest tint legal, low profile tires, hot rims. I loved when it was time to trade up on that lease. She was pretty as hell, smelled so good, and she could haul ass which is what I did to make up for time even if the drive to the hospital was only about five minutes from my place. I’d stopped by a donut shop and gotten several bags of unglazed donut holes, several lattés from Starbucks for the nursing staff, and one Venti Mocha for Adeline, Anabelle’s mother, since I knew her favorite.
I walked into the hospital a completely different man from the asshole I was for Nightshade. A different man from even my office job. I was just a guy who wanted to bring some light into these dreary rooms that my own brother had been trapped in on and off from the time he was eleven until fourteen. I’d spent too much time with him there, but I always kept the strong front going for him. If I wasn’t at school, I spent the night on the little couch in his room, or even in his bed to keep his continuously thinning frame warm as sometimes it seemed that even a heap of blankets didn’t help. My parents sometimes pushed me out so that they could be with him overnight instead, my older brother would stay often as well, both of us trading turns on the bed with August and on the couch in the room. All of us show
ing him pictures of the girls from the neighboring school that were asking for him. Those times were the brightest, when a whole slew of friends would come to see him on the weekends and hang out to annoy the nurses. Sure, he tired out quickly, but the warmth that came when someone other than family was there, it was priceless, not only to him, but to me, my elder brother, Lachlan, and my parents.
“Morning, Lynn!” I smiled at the lead nurse in the children’s ward. I handed her the drink carrier.
“Morning, Klive!” she beamed brightly in thanks, but her eyes glazed over a bit with sadness, and my heart clenched as tears came unbidden to my eyes along with her own. I nodded in knowing. “Yeah, it’s been a really rough morning.” She pursed her lips and swiped at the tears that came. I walked behind the station and pulled her to my shoulder, wrapping an arm around her back while my other still held the coffee for Adeline and the donut holes. “Alex lost his battle last night. His parents are making arrangements. You want them?” she asked me as she pulled back to try and put her professionalism back on, barely. I rubbed my own eyes to clear them of the tears that had escaped. I exhaled heavily. Alex had been a delight. He was always encouraging all the others when they got together. He was in Heaven now, and that’s where he had always told us he was more than happy to go if he just couldn’t hack it in that sick body of his. Shit, it still never made it better.
“Please do. I will be there,” I told her, indicating his funeral. I knew he was probably chiding me from his spiritual body right now the way he told the rest of us he would if we cried over his passing. Stage Four. Poor angel.
“You better be extra sweet today to cheer those sad faces, Klive. Do it for those of us here who are having the hardest damn time keeping it straight, please?” she smiled feebly. I got my shit together with a tissue quickly and nodded with a warm smile as best I could. “Oh, and I should chide you for those rotten treats that are forbidden, but I’m turning the other cheek, mister.” She gave me a sweet smile and waved me on. I spent the next half hour delivering those bags full of uplifting dough that was not a good thing, sure, but what the hell, shouldn’t kids get the joy of junk food from time to time? Especially the ones who don’t know true normalcy? Besides, they were unglazed!
Don't Close Your Eyes Page 2
