by Kara Hart
To the right of everyone was the man in the pictures, Cade. “Don’t let him look at me,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. The unknown man next to him kicked me again and I felt my rib nearly break against his steel toe. I rolled over on my side and looked away, but I had already got a good picture of him. He bore the look of a drug addict out of options. He was desperate.
“What do you want from me?” I asked. Every breath I took, pain shot through my body. The things I do for my family. The things I do for women!
Cade stepped forward. His shoes were covered in mud and old leaves. His pants were ripped at the bottom and stained with pond scum. He looked homeless and shrewd, like he had learned to exist off of bare means. Fresh blades of grass fell off him. Where had this man been before this? “I want to strike a deal.”
“You killed one of our guys,” I sighed, coughing up more blood. “You don’t get to strike a deal.”
Cade looked over at the unknown man and hissed “You said we could strike a deal.”
“Just shut the fuck up, will ya?” the man said. “Here,” he threw a suitcase of cash out in front of me. From what I could gather, there was at least $20,000 there on the ground.
“What the hell is this?” I asked him.
“My friend here said he’d like to cut a deal and we mean it.” The unknown man said.
“Why should I strike a deal with you? I’ve never seen you in my damn life,” I said.
“Because I’m the man with the gun,” he snickered.
“And? I’ve been waiting all my life for a good ending. This one will suit me just fine. Just try not to aim for the head, boys. I’d like for my family to have one last viewing of me and I’d like to look my best.” I closed my eyes and breathed in deep, suddenly coughing up more blood.
“We’ll kill her too, you know.” Cade’s voice echoed off the tall ceilings of the building. From outside, I could hear the faint trickle from the Michigan waters.
“You wouldn’t,” I said.
“I would.” He ground his teeth wildly. “You think I give a shit about that woman?” He nearly screamed the words.
I looked back at the men. Carmelo stared at the ground as if his life depended on it. It was as if he thought he could wish himself out of the situation. I shook my head at him, making sure he could feel the level of my disappointment. First his men killed my uncle Tessio, then this?
“She’s the mother of your daughter,” I said. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
He laughed loudly and knelt down to my level. “She’s a little cunt who will end up just like her mother. I’ll be happy when she’s watching her mother suffer. Anyway, she’ll be mine soon enough. Now take the money I owe you, debt collector, and leave me the fuck alone. Our business is done.”
“I thought you wanted to strike a deal,” I sighed, grabbing at my ribs. My gun was lying across the room. It would be impossible to get to. My blade, however, was pressed against my leg.
The unknown man stepped forward. “The deal is you leave us alone. Cade is with us now. You fuck with him, you fuck with all of us,” he said.
“And who the fuck are you? I hear the Chicago accent, but I’ve never seen your kind in my life,” I said.
“We’re a new family. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Just stay the fuck away from us. Boys.” He nodded to Cade and Carmelo who stepped forward. In their hands was the faint glint of weapons. From what I could make out they were brass knuckles and a billy club, but they were sure to use their boots and fists too.
“Consider this a warning,” Cade said to me, securing the knuckles across his hand. This wasn’t going to feel good. Not one bit.
I closed my eyes as the feeling of unimaginable pain came falling across my face and body. Soon, I was unconscious and swimming in a pool of my own blood.
The sound of footsteps was behind me. A familiar voice. The feeling of hands. “Lucas! Lucas!” My name swirled inside and out of my mind. I couldn’t tell what was a dream and what was real. And the pain I felt seared against my nerves.
I opened my eyes to see Ricky standing over me. “Fuck, they got you good,” he said. “You look like a fucking grapefruit.”
“Fuck you,” I smiled. “I look incredible. Always.” Dried blood flaked from my nose and eyes. I didn’t want to see what I looked like. I imagined it wasn’t a pretty picture.
“Did you get them?” I asked.
He smiled brightly and stood tall, above me, like a dog does when he brings a dead bird to your attention. “Got two of them. Some young punk. He's in the back. The old man, I've heard, holds some importance. I got him knocked out in the back of my car.” He laughed. “That other guy got away though. Skinny little bastard.”
“I got the money,” I said, trying to find the brighter side to this story.
“It ain’t about the money anymore. I want that fanook’s head on a plate and I want it served to his family.” He grinned. “You too fucked up to find the guy?”
“Never too fucked up for that. Besides, I think I know where he is.”
159
Lucas
“How do you know where he is?” Ricky asked me, driving my Cadillac like a maniac through town. I held my ribs, barely able to sit still from the pain. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pain pill. I was used to being bruised up and broken, but it helped to stay prepared.
I shrugged. “It's my job to know where everyone is at all times.”
“I'm serious. Where the hell am I going?” He sped around a corner, going about 100 miles an hour.
“Dahlia’s house. He's going to try and steal the girl,” I said. “Now turn left!” He slammed on the gas and spun the car to the left, in the direction of her house.
Behind us, Carmelo sat against the window, moaning in pain. “Shut the fuck up back there.” Ricky laughed. “Or I'll be forced to do worse on you.”
“You need a weapon?” he asked me. “You're looking a little empty right now.”
“I’ve got my knife, but I'd love a pistol.” I grinned.
When we pulled into the driveway, we jumped out of the car. We displayed our pistols in front of us and walked quietly up to the driveway. Something told me he was inside.
I peered inside and saw all I needed to see. There he was, standing over Dahlia, shaking his gun wildly at the two. He was screaming, trying to churn up old fears. He was most likely succeeding too.
“It's going to be hard not to burn a hole through that motherfucker,” I muttered.
I motioned to Ricky with my eyes that he was inside the house. We circled around to the back and I gently pushed open the broken in door. I knew this wouldn't take much effort on our part. Without any help, he was completely useless as a criminal entity.
I simply walked into the room and Ricky followed closely behind me. Both our guns pointed directly at Cade’s head. “Drop your weapon and get into that corner over there. Now,” I said, nodding at Jen.
He dropped the gun and backed into the corner. Without his weapon in hand, he wasn't a threat to anyone anymore. “You might be the absolute worst criminal in history,” I said. I took the back of my gun and swung it against the guy’s skull. He fell like a ton of bricks.
“Let's take him to the Don,” Ricky sighed. “He’ll be waiting for him.”
“You go ahead. I've got unfinished business here,” I said, looking at Dahlia who was visibly shaken up.
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged. We both grabbed Cade and tied him up, throwing him into the trunk of the vehicle.
“Thanks for saving me back there.” I shut the trunk and looked in at Carmelo. He was awake, but silently obedient. “What’ll you do with him?” I asked.
“Do you really need to ask?” He laughed.
“Don't hurt him. It's not his fault.” I found myself saying. The old man had lived a hard life already. He sold me out, but that didn't mean I didn't have sympathy for the guy.
“Seriously? He tried to—”
“Just do what
I say. Take any extra revenge out on Cade,” I said. “I want him out of our lives forever.”
“Shit, man. You really like this girl, don't you?” he asked.
“Yeah, she's important to me. But it's not about whether I like her or not. She deserves a little peace in her life. I wouldn't expect you to understand,” I said.
“I get it. I do,” he said. “You can take the old man. He doesn't mean anything to me.” He opened the car door and Carmelo fell onto the asphalt with a big thud. “Look, uh, I'll see you back in Detroit soon, all right?”
“Sounds good,” I said. But deep down I knew this was my last job. I was worn out and tired of hurting people. The organized crime life seemed glamorous to me as a kid. Plus, it wasn't like I had a choice in the matter. It was family. It was what was expected when I grew into manhood.
But now, at the ripe age of 33, I was thinking about the benefits of retirement. Detroit wasn't in my sights. No, I needed some place green with trees and fresh air. No more corruption and crime. Only positives. Shit, I was really surprising myself these days.
160
Dahlia
“You're safe,” he said. “But I'm sorry I didn't get to you earlier.”
I didn't know how to react. I didn't know whether to be happy or scared, or any other kind of emotion. I just knew I wanted to feel safe again. “Is he gone? For good?” I said, holding Jen in my arms.
“He got him, Mom.” Jen sighed. Her tears were dry now. Fuck, I was pissed. I now had to explain to my daughter that her daddy was a maniac drug dealer in the possession of the mafia. The whole thing was ludicrous.
Lucas knelt in front of us. “He's gone. For good. That I can promise you. I wouldn't want to be in his shoes right now.”
“Or yours,” I said. “Are you okay? You look like you really took a beating, Lucas.” I ran my fingers across his swollen cheeks, and through his hair. “I'm so sorry.”
“You kidding me? This is a normal day for me. I just want to see you two safe and happy.” He groaned and felt one of his cuts on his face. “Do I look as bad as I feel?”
“You're handsome,” I said. It wasn't a lie. Not one bit. Even after he had been mangled, he somehow managed to continue to look sexy.
He chuckled. “I know when a gal is lyin’ to me,” he said.
“Oh, don't give me that gal shit. I'm not lying. You're handsome, strong, and you've been there for me more than most in my life,” I said, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks. There was so much more I wanted to say and I was grateful he hadn't left town yet. It could have been under better circumstances, I guess, but we were safe now and that was all that mattered.
“But I'm a criminal, right? Just ‘cause I've helped you out and bought coffee from you doesn't necessarily mean I deserve something from you.” He sighed and stared at the tiled floor. He looked exhausted and it was in that moment I realized how much I must have hurt him by rejecting him so often.
“I don't care that you're a criminal. Life’s too short to turn down something good.” I found myself laughing and thrown into a state of exhilarating emotions. All that bad I was forced to experience was now in the past. And from there on out, I made an oath to myself that I would only let in the good.
“What're you saying? You'll have to spit it out. I ain't that intelligent, sweetie-pie.” He said. Here we go again with the sweetie-pie stuff.
“Kiss him, Momma!” Jen clapped with glee. I blushed and ruffled her hair. “Hey! Quit being a baby!!” she squealed.
“She likes you,” I laughed.
“Yeah, well maybe she shouldn't.” He laughed right back at me.
“I like you too,” I admitted. “A lot. It sickens me actually.”
“Great, you sicken me too.” He winked. “How ‘bout a date sometime?”
“How about you stay over.” I bit my lip and lowered my gaze to his belt buckle and that bronze zipper resting in between denim.
“Jen, go to your room,” he muttered.
“But. But!” That was her best argument. I turned to her and raised my eyebrows.
“Now, baby. If you go, Lucas will read to you before bed.” I knew how to strike a good bargain.
“Yay!” She ran up behind Lucas and wrapped her tiny arms around his wide chest. It was the cutest damn thing I had ever seen. She whispered in his ear “You’re Mommy’s knight in shining armor.” She kissed him on the cheek and ran as fast as she could to her room.
“She's a cute kid,” he said, massaging his ribs.
“I never thought I'd hear you say the word cute,” I said.
“I said it about your ass, remember?” He laughed. “I still think it's the cutest damn thing I've ever seen. Or held.” He was grinning under his injuries.
“Let me help you with that.” I ran to the bathroom and got some hydrogen peroxide and gauze. I began cleaning his wounds lightly, taping down some gauze where it was needed.
“Thanks, babe.” He sighed.
“Do you really think it's cute?” I suddenly found myself turning around and checking myself out in the living room mirror. It wasn't exactly small.
“Cute isn't the right word. I'd call it a godsend. I want to kneel before it in extreme worship.” He said, getting into the prayer position and sticking his tongue straight out. “I'm thirsty for a little worship.”
I bent over, slightly joking, but also I just really wanted him to grip my flesh like he did the other night. “What else do you want to do?” I felt my panties soak to the edges. “I want you to tell me.”
He looked around and said “Are you sure? What about…” He glanced down the hall.
“She's fine. She won't come out here. She's heavily invested in SpongeBob right now.” I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together. “I've had a rough fucking week, so you better do this for me. Tell me. Tell me everything you're going to do to me,” I said, opening my eyes to find him hovering over my ass like it was a porcelain relic.
“I want you to lower that ass until your cute, wet panties fall onto my face. I want to breathe you in, to swallow you whole, and make you come over and over again.” He sighed. His pants grew tight around his cock.
As soon as I heard those words, I felt myself almost fall over the edge. I was hanging on by a thread, my pussy shaking and giving me that tap, tap, tap feeling, like it was saying fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. I was so close to losing myself in front of him.
“More,” I moaned.
He reached out and grabbed a piece of my ass, feeling it in his palm and between his giant fingers. “After I make you come and lick you completely, I want to turn you around and make you swallow my cock.”
“What if I can't fit it all inside my mouth?” I moaned quietly, arching my back. His hand fell to my wet panties and he pressed on it with three fingers, moving in a slow and circular fashion.
“Don't you worry about that. I'll train you. I'll make a woman out of you yet,” he said. I turned around and he had his belt hanging open and his zipper down. “It's all yours, baby.”
“Don’t you stop talking. Tell me what you want,” I said, crawling over to his lap. I reached out and felt the elastic band of his underwear and the denim over top of it. I pulled down both as he took off his shirt, revealing his incredible body.
“Take off your panties. I want them to hang around your ankles,” he said, extending his hand out to cup my breasts. Under my shirt, his fingers circled around my nipples, pulling lightly on the taut skin. “Strip for me, while I stroke my cock.”
I looked down at the throbbing rod and was instantly sent over the edge. My panties inched slowly down my trembling thighs and he just stared at me with his heavy, dark eyes. He spit down on his cock and stroked slow and methodical. I grabbed his other free hand and placed it on my clit. I fell forward in agonizing ecstasy. “I’m coming…” I moaned, feeling every ounce of pleasure squeeze out of me.
“That’s right, baby. Be a good girl for the boss…” He groaned back.
Leaning against the wall
, he grabbed my hair and pulled back lightly. “I want you to sit on my face, while you choke on my hard dick.” He smiled, playing along with my little game. Today he had saved me in more than one way.
I turned around and hovered my ass over his face. My dripping pussy pulsated above him. He grabbed both cheeks and squeezed, spreading me open like a fruit. “I’m hungrier than ever,” he grunted, stuffing his face into me. I held my breath and wrapped my tongue around his throbbing flesh, bobbing up and down while he pulled on my silky hair.
“Well it’s obvious you like sucking my cock,” he said as his tongue swirled inside and out. “I could live like this forever.”
He was fucking solid. I had never felt a cock as hard as his. After today’s events, he was more than ready to bury himself inside of me, to disappear in the folds of my tender flesh. “Fuck me,” I purred. It was crazy, but I already felt close to that feeling of no return again.
He sat me down on his lap, teasing me and kissing my neck. His hands wrapped around my waist and he squeezed tightly, like I was all his. With one deep push, he was inside of me, and our breathy moans intertwined alongside our bodies.
“Ride me, cowgirl,” he smiled. He stared at me straight in the eyes, never breaking contact, never faltering. Our rhythmic motions kept us connected; him thrusting and me opening up for him. Up and down, up and down. Deeper now, deeper.
I grabbed his sturdy hand and held it in mine, rowing against the current. I placed his fingers around my throat and held them in place, still staring into his dark eyes. “Fuck me. Harder,” I cried. “Deeper.”
He placed his other hand around my mouth and whispered. “Shh.” Our breaths were quiet and controlled, our bodies pressed against each other. I was coming again, with his hands placed like that, and I felt the blood rush to my head. I grew dizzy with an immense pleasure and I fell backwards onto the carpet. He let go and placed himself over me. His body was like one of those tributes to a great God. The kind you see in the history books, like the sculpture of David, only he was even more perfect and chiseled.
