SMITH (The Beckett Boys, Book One)

by Olivia Chase

  Everyone nearby had fallen silent and watchful, like he was some rabid dog that might just tear into the nearest person who looked at him wrong.

  He was handed a wad of cash that he didn’t bother counting, just stuffed the roll of bills into his pants pocket. Then he grabbed his shirt and coat and walked off, exiting through the gate while the crowd stared mutely at him.

  When he reached me, Zack pulled his shirt on and then glanced at me. “You should’ve stayed in the truck,” he said.

  “I didn’t know,” I replied, following him as he headed back to the vehicle.

  We both got inside. Zack started the car and then examined his knuckles while it idled. His hand looked a little swollen and raw, but that could just as easily have been from the fight with my cousins.

  “Not too bad,” he muttered, flexing his fingers out and then making a fist. He grimaced a little as he closed his hand.

  “So this is what you do all day? Beat people up?” I said, unable to keep the judgment out of my voice.

  Zack gave me a quick sideways look before pulling the truck out into the street. “That’s just one of my many talents,” he said, clearly not taking my question seriously.

  “And now where do we go?” I said, feeling strangely betrayed.

  “Where do you want to go?” he replied.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Somewhere else equally fun. How about a slaughterhouse?”

  Zack gave a grunting laugh. “Relax, Caeli. Nobody got hurt too bad. It’s just a fight, it’s what we do.”

  “Don’t act like it’s normal to do that to people.”

  “I didn’t say it was normal. I said it’s what people like me do. We fight.”

  “You could at least get in a ring and do it professionally, not illegally in a backyard.”

  “So that would make it all better then?” he retorted.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  “That’s a start,” he said, his voice hardening as he drove faster.

  I bit my nail, chewing on it absentmindedly, then realized what I was doing and stopped. My leg jittered anxiously. “I don’t even know what I’m doing right now. You’re right, I don’t know you and I shouldn’t judge you.”

  “I never said any of that,” Zack laughed.

  “Well, I just did.”

  “What’s your damage?” he asked, shaking his head.

  “This whole situation is just ridiculous. How many girls have you slept with?”

  He didn’t answer.

  I snorted. “That many?”

  “You’re really itching to find something to hate about me,” Zack said. “Well, you won’t have to look far if that’s what you’re after.”

  “I just don’t get why you asked me to come stay with you. Was it just because my father pissed you off? And now you’re regretting it, so you’re trying to scare me away or something?”

  Zack sighed, turning the truck onto a side road. “I asked you to stay because it seemed like you might need a safer place to live.”

  I cackled madly. “Living with you is safer? On what planet?”

  He glanced at me, his green eyes flashing. “Nobody will ever hurt you or so much as look at your wrong when you’re with me,” he said.

  In that moment, I felt the truth behind his words. I knew that he wasn’t merely saying it, that he actually meant it and intended to honor it.

  The sensation of his protectiveness caused chills to cascade throughout my body, making my skin flash into goose bumps.

  I inhaled sharply, my nipples stiffening.

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” I admitted.

  He gave a small grin. “You don’t need to say anything.” And then he pulled into a shopping plaza with a department store. In the next lot over was a large supermarket. “I happen to have come into some cash today,” Zack said, winking at me. “So why don’t you run into the store, pick out some clothes for the next few days, some essentials, and then I’ll run across to the market and grab some food and whatnot.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I said.

  “Caeli,” Zack said, turning to me and staring into my eyes. “You deserve to have a few nice things. It’s my treat. Let me do this for you.”

  I shook my head. “I can go home and pick up some clothes—“

  “No,” Zack said. “We both know if you go back to that apartment, this all falls apart.”

  His insight into my personality scared me a little. “I can’t live with you.”

  “You’re just staying with me for a bit,” he said. “Nobody said anything about living together.”

  “But what’s the point?” I asked, my hands curling tightly around my shirt anxiously. “Eventually I have to go back. This is silly.”

  “No,” Zack said.

  “No I don’t have to go back or no this isn’t silly?”

  “Both,” he replied simply. “Now get out and I’ll meet you in a few minutes in the store when you’re ready to check out.”

  ZACK

  After Caeli reluctantly got out of the truck, I watched her walk hesitantly towards the department store.

  She was beautiful and sexy as fuck, and she didn’t even seem to realize it.

  It was as though she was a beautiful, rare flower growing in the mud and dirt, somehow existing in the middle of a war zone.

  I’d seen beauty destroyed before—but nothing so beautiful as her.

  Nothing so rare as her.

  My stomach clenched a little as I watched her disappear into the store, looking back once over her shoulder as she went inside.

  My palms were suddenly sweating and I had a pounding headache as my mind spun back in time.

  Gun shots rattling.

  Me, running full speed with my gear, shooting like a maniac, the bullets I fire blowing through the bodies of the enemy fleeing before me. They don’t know how to deal with someone who is unafraid of death—someone who will do anything to defend his brothers.

  The fury of seeing my best friends scared, wounded, killed—the smell of burning flesh and the madness of battle—all of these sights and sounds and scents are now permanently etched into the backs of my eyeballs, the insides of my nostrils, hitting my ear drums and echoing endlessly.

  We’re all going to die out here and I know it.

  But first, I intend to give my brothers every chance and opportunity to survive the ambush, and if that means my life is over, then so be it. After everything I’ve seen in Afghanistan, I don’t really think my life can ever be what it was—the veil has been pulled back and it won’t ever be the same for me.

  I’m fine with being a sacrifice.

  I snapped out of my memory, heart pounding, breathing shallowly, as someone laid on their car horn behind me. I turned and glared at the young guy in his car, and his face visibly paled.

  The look in my eyes was probably enough to make him pee his pants.

  I turned around, getting control of myself little by little and then driving across to the plaza with the supermarket.

  Just run. Leave her in the store back there and get the hell away from her.

  You’ll be sparing her so much misery. You’re ruined, a shell of a human being. You know this is all meaningless, your mind corrupted from everything you’ve seen and the places you’ve been.

  Why are you still trying to act like a human being when you know it’s all a lie?

  I wiped the sweat from my brow and slowed my breathing little by little. Part of me did want to run, leave her in the store.

  I was supposed to leave her this morning, not ask her to come and stay with me at my apartment. But something inside of me couldn’t stand by and let that beautiful flower wilt in the hot sun, couldn’t abide by that old man trying to crush her underfoot.

  I knew it wasn’t my place—me of all people. I was about the last person that should be trying to save anyone else, seeing as I’d been drowning for a long time.

  But somehow I couldn’t let go of her,
couldn’t let go of the dream of her, I wanted to savor every little moment with Caeli.

  So maybe this would be a few days instead of just one night.

  Was that so bad?

  Wasn’t I entitled to a few days of happiness after everything I’d been through?

  No.

  The answer was simple and truthful.

  The world doesn’t owe you anything, soldier. You’ve seen children, innocent children, blown apart. You’ve seen grown men begging for their lives only to die screaming, their cries of anguish unheeded and forgotten.

  So no, you aren’t entitled to jack shit.

  The best you can do is spare this poor girl anymore wasted time in your company.

  I went into the supermarket and began shopping for some staples, things that I hoped might make the apartment feel more comfortable for her. I bought plenty of food, not knowing exactly what she liked.

  I got a range of stuff, from lunchmeat to veggies, salad fixings, yogurt, soup, bread, rice, some bacon and eggs and thin-sliced steaks.

  I bought shampoo, conditioner, the pink girlie stuff that seemed like it would make her feel at home. Lotions, nail polish, makeup, I bought enough food and toiletries to fill an entire cart.

  I paid in cash.

  The gig today had paid well and I still had money left over from my last fight.

  It seemed like word was starting to spread, because the last few weeks I was getting more calls and the money was going up. Apparently some of my fight films were being passed around online and people were hoping to see me live and in person more often.

  I didn’t care.

  Fighting just came easy to me.

  Hurting people came easy to me, and it kept me from thinking.

  Anything that kept me from thinking was good.

  I rolled my cart out to the parking lot and loaded the bags into the back of my truck, then got inside and drove towards the department store.

  Even as I parked in front of the store where I knew she was shopping, a little voice in my head was telling me to just go. Back out, leave and never think about her again.

  The urge to flee was powerful. But then I imagined her face and her eyes, those big eyes that seemed to need me of all people.

  I couldn’t leave, not yet.

  The leaving was inevitable but it could wait for now.

  I got out of the truck and walked to the entrance.

  When I got inside, I found her standing with just a few items of clothing, and it was obvious to me that she was uncomfortable taking my help. I looked down at the clothes she was holding.

  “That’s not enough, and don’t just get the shit that’s on sale, Caeli.”

  She pouted a little. “I can’t take your money. I’m not—“

  “You’re not what?”

  “I’m not like that,” she said, defiantly.

  My dick hardened. “I think you are like that.” My jaw tightened. “Now go back and get more clothes, and make sure to get some little panties and bras, stuff that barely covers you.”

  Her cheeks flushed and she swallowed. “I’m not doing any such thing. I’m getting these jeans and this t-shirt.”

  “Come with me,” I told her, grabbing her wrist in my hand and pulling her.

  “Hey,” she said, but she did as I said.

  As we walked, I noticed how hard my cock was, how badly I wanted to be inside her again, wanted to feel her red, plush lips hugging my shaft, sucking me off while her big eyes stared up at me.

  I pulled her to the lingerie section and made her choose a few skimpy outfits.

  Her face reddened but I could tell she enjoyed selecting them in front of me. If there had been more time and the food wouldn’t spoil, I’d have made her change and give me a show in the dressing room.

  When she was done in the lingerie section, we went and grabbed socks, more panties and regular bras, t-shirts, sweaters, jeans and skirts. There was no time for her to try it all on, and I told her if things didn’t fit she could return them.

  Caeli tried to insist that it was all too much, but I refused to listen.

  We went up front and I paid for everything in cash—it came to over four hundred dollars.

  I still had close to a grand on me, and I knew more fights would be booked soon, especially when the video got out of today’s action. I’d planted that guy with one shot to the jaw, a perfectly timed punch that had felt like swinging a baseball bat and knocking one out of the park.

  Easy peasy.

  We walked out carrying bags full of clothes, and I tossed them in back of the truck with the grocery bags, and then we got into the cab and headed back to my apartment.

  I insisted on carrying all of the bags inside myself. It took me all of three trips, and I told Caeli to go shower and change into one of her new outfits.

  Meanwhile, I put the groceries away.

  My apartment wasn’t too bad, nothing to be ashamed of. When I’d first come home from overseas, I’d had a nice bit of money built up from when I was in Afghanistan.

  That initial cushion of money was gone, but it had allowed me to travel and finally rent a decent apartment in a nice area of town here. I’d furnished it well, complete with leather couches, big flat screen in the living room, dining room table and chairs, a great king-sized bed.

  While Caeli was in the shower, I put some olive oil in a pan, seasoned those thin steaks and then laid them flat in the pan where they immediately seared, popping and bubbling, the smell tantalizing.

  I made some rice in a pot and then covered it.

  Then I threw a bag of broccoli in the microwave and cooked it.

  Before long, the thin steaks were ready, I moved them to two plates, added the rice and broccoli and placed them on the dining room table just as Caeli emerged from her shower, fresh and clean, her wide eyes taking in the scene in front of her.

  She’d changed into jean capris and a light shirt, her wet hair pulled back.

  “Dinner is served,” I said, gesturing to the steaming food.

  Caeli looked at me, smiled hesitantly. “I feel like such a leech right now.”

  “Chill,” I told her. “Sit and eat.”

  I could tell nobody had ever taken care of her—not really. Probably not a single day in her life. It made me angry when I thought of her slaving away at that shitty burger joint, the way those people treated her—the way her father treated her.

  If she was with me, they’d never treat her like that again. Not ever.

  Caeli sat down, picked up her fork and dug into the rice.

  I sat down and watched her momentarily.

  “You’re making me nervous,” she said, looking up at me.

  “There’s nothing to be nervous about,” I replied, picking up my knife and fork.

  She started to eat, slowly at first, and then ravenous. “Oh my God, this is so good, Zack.”

  I smiled when she said my name. And I got hard all over again.

  Even with no makeup on, she was beautiful and sexy and all I could do was envision myself stripping her down again, fucking that tight wet pussy like I had the night before.

  The steak was good. “The key is not to flip the meat too much,” I explained, gesturing with my fork. “You just season it very simply, then lay it in the pan and don’t touch it except to flip it once. Boom. Seals in the juices, coats it.”

  She nodded, taking a napkin and wiping the juice from her lips as if to prove my point. “Who taught you how to cook?” she asked.

  I pictured my Gran and started to say the answer, but then I remembered how I’d left Gran back home without so much as a word. Left her along with the rest of them.

  My stomach felt suddenly sour. “It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled.

  Caeli nodded as if that answer made complete sense. She continued eating and then turned and looked at me with those big, soft eyes of hers. “I shouldn’t have given you such a hard time about fighting. The truth is, I wish I had the guts to do what you do.”

&nbs
p; “And what is it you think I do exactly?”

  “You just do whatever you want to do, and you don’t apologize for it.” She went back to eating.

  “Whatever you think I am,” I said, “nothing’s ever that simple.”

  She picked at her broccoli. “What we did last night…” she said.

  “Yeah?”

  “It was nice. It was fun. But I hope you don’t expect more of that as some sort of repayment for you letting me crash with you.”

  I sat back in my chair and stared at her, laughing now. “You think I’m expecting sex in exchange for room and board?”

  “I don’t even know you. What we did last night—that’s not normal for me. I don’t just do that.”

  I grabbed my glass of water and took a long sip. “You don’t owe me or anyone else a damn thing, Caeli. Not a damn thing.” And then I got up and carried my plate to the kitchen, scraped the dregs into the trash and put the plate and silverware in the sink. While I was pouring some dish soap and water onto the dirty plates and utensils, she came into the kitchen behind me.

  “Guess I’m done too. It was really good, Zack.”

  “Cool,” I said, turning and reaching back to take her plate from her. Then I added it to the sink. “You can feel free to have the run of the place,” I said.

  “I feel like maybe I should go now,” she replied.

  I didn’t turn around to look at her. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, it’s just really awkward. I mean, what is this? I’m not your girlfriend, and you don’t seem exactly in the market to acquire one. If I’m wrong, please tell me.”

  I grabbed a sponge. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Well, if this is just some sort of charity on your part, I don’t need it. And after what happened between us last night, neither of us could claim that we’re just friends.”

  “So?” I replied, picking up a fork and scrubbing at it.

  “So, I’m not comfortable with this sort of thing. Maybe you’re used to it, but I’m not. And I think I’m going to leave now.”

  I braced my hands on the edge of the counter momentarily.

  You should let her go.

  She knows that you’re fucking bad news, and you agree with her. Time to give it up, soldier, and move on before you do serious damage.