Retaliatory Justice (The Talionic Files #1)

by Tawa M. Witko

  “Can I have your attention everyone?” he says with authority. When we all turn to him he begins. “I know that this is difficult. Phillipe was a dear and close friend to me,” he places his arm around Whitney, “to us and he will be duly missed.”

  There is murmuring in the kitchen as people nod, not sure what else to say or do. None of us knew him very well. I probably knew him better than anyone else but he treated us all with respect. I am actually a little shocked right now though because Marshall never speaks to us and I’m not sure what exactly he will say.

  “But Phillipe wanted nothing more than to see this restaurant succeed, and succeed it will. So, let’s dedicate this dinner service to him.” He gazes onto Whitney. “Do you have anything to add, my darling?”

  She shakes her head and he kisses the top of her head before turning abruptly and walking out of the kitchen. I shake my head. I don’t know what I was expecting, but that was pitiful. I turn to my chefs, who look baffled. I clap my hands to get their attention and when they are looking at me I smile.

  “All right everyone, let’s get to work.”

  They nod as we start lining things up. The orders are coming in quickly. I think people are curious how we will respond to the death of Phillipe. Most were probably assuming we would shut down completely. I’m glad we didn’t. The kitchen is chaotic and frenzied as ticket after ticket comes through. By the end of the night we are all exhausted and happy that it is over.

  “Chef Dominique, that was exquisite,” Marshall says, entering the kitchen. He turns to Whitney, who is giving me her icy glare. “Don’t you think so as well, my love?”

  She smiles at him and nods before turning back to me. “You did a fine job, Chef Dominique.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Have a good night everyone. Excellent job,” he says as he and Whitney walk out of the kitchen.

  I shake my head at them again. I kind of liked that they were never around before because they obviously don’t have the people skills to motivate anyone. Phillipe was most definitely the figure head out of the three. I never realized what a buffer he was for me until now. I just hope Marshall keeps his word and keeps his certifiably insane woman away from me.

  “Have a great night, Chef,” Chef Mark says to me as he is preparing to leave.

  “Thank you, Chef. See you tomorrow,” I reply.

  I finish up the last few things I need to do before hanging up my chef coat. I step out of the restaurant and glance down the street at Night Hawks. There are a few cars there and I can hear the music every time the door opens. I know I shouldn’t, but I want to go in there. Why I insist on torturing myself is beyond me, but here I am, stepping through the door. I almost expect to see Valentino at the bar but he isn’t there. A thought that depresses me greatly.

  “Can I get a Hurricane?” I ask the bartender, taking a seat on one of the stools.

  “Sure thing, Dominique.” A few minutes later he is setting my drink in front of me. He then touches my hand lightly. “You doing okay? I read about what happened.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I’m getting by. We opened tonight so that was good.”

  He smiles. “Well, let me know if ya need anything else.”

  “I will,” I say to his retreating figure.

  I take a few sips of my drink, trying desperately not to think about Phillipe or Jonathan or … Valentino. My mind keeps drifting as I remember the way his hands felt running all over my body and the look on his face as we made love. He seemed so lost, so vulnerable and I miss him more than is appropriate.

  17 Falling Into Place

  Valentino Masterson

  July 29th

  “Ah, man. The government is so damn cheap. Look at how small this bed is,” Clayton laments at our not so grand quarters.

  “Well, I doubt any place makes beds big enough for giants,” I reply casually as I start emptying out my bag.

  “Ha, ha, ha, very funny, everyone’s a comedian,” he says and I actually look up to see if he is upset but he doesn’t look it. “Where to first?” he asks after tossing his things into the dresser.

  “Let’s go check out the restaurant and see if we can find Adams’ non-existent surveillance.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  We exit our room and get into our nondescript rental. Both of us adjust our baseball caps. We are in jeans and t-shirts, with lightweight windbreakers to conceal our weapons. We grabbed a couple of baseball caps at the airport, his, the New Orleans Saints and mine the New Orleans Hornets. I don’t generally wear a lot of baseball caps but we need to look like regular folks, locals to be exact, people that no one would pay attention to and therefore identify.

  “Remember, no one can ever know we wore these,” Clayton says very seriously.

  “Heck no, Joseph would disown me if he saw me in this cap,” I concur, knowing my uncles love for the Bulls.

  “Good, because Kailee would probably withhold sex for a month if she found me in this. You know how she is with the Bears.”

  I laugh. “Yes, I do.”

  We make it to the restaurant, and patrol around the neighborhood, not seeing anything that could remotely pass for surveillance. Adams was definitely lying when he said he had been watching them. Of course, that bodes well for our endeavor here, since he will likely not know about our presence until Monday.

  “How do you want to do this?”

  I glance at the front door and then him. “Let’s rotate between exits, that way we have both of them covered.”

  “I’ll take the back,” he replies.

  We have been watching for hours. I haven’t spotted Dominique yet, which bothers me. I keep wondering how she’s doing. Was she hurt? She had to have been emotionally traumatized by what she saw. I know I was seeing my family killed. My hand starts to shake and I squeeze my fists shut, trying to settle down.

  “Masterson,” Clayton buzzes in. “I got Marshall and Whitney coming in the back.”

  “Roger that, keep an eye on them.”

  We spend the next several hours watching as the restaurant opens and people come and go. I just shifted back to the front of the building while Clayton watches the back again. From our posts it doesn’t appear that Marshall and Whitney have exited the building. I haven’t seen Dominique yet which has made me nervous and on edge. Where could she be? Just as that thought pops into my head, she exits the restaurant. She is standing there looking towards the bar we met at and my heart flutters a bit.

  “Masterson, the last of the cars around back has left. I think they pulled a ghost on us.”

  “There must be another exit we don’t know about, like the restaurant in Chicago,” I say into my phone but my eyes are tracking Dominique’s movements.

  “Do you want to continue to stick around?” he asks and I’m only half way listening as I watch her enter the bar.

  Without hesitation, I start walking in that direction. “Nah, look, take the car back to the room. I’m going to pursue another lead.”

  His guffaw is so loud I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Is this the mysterious ‘she’ that you pursued last time?” he asks between laughter.

  “Screw you, Clayton,” I say, hanging up before he can retort something that would probably just piss me off.

  I jog across the street and take a deep breath as I step inside the noisy establishment. I see her immediately. She is sitting at the bar nursing a drink. I approach her carefully. I can see that she has a faraway look on her face. She seems to be lost in a dream. I almost don’t want to disturb her, but I will because there’s absolutely no way I can stop myself. I need to talk to her.

  “Can I refresh that?” I say, using the same pick-up line she used on me when we first met.

  She turns quickly, saying my name in a gasp as she wraps her arms around me. I automatically nestle my head in her hair, lightly kissing her neck as she moves closer to me. Her body is trembling so I pull her nearer, lifting her slightly as my mouth finds hers. She deepens our kis
s immediately and I forget all together that we are in a public place.

  “Are you okay?” I finally ask, pulling away from her only slightly.

  She shakes her head and my heart breaks a little at the look of pain on her face. I am overcome with the desire to take care of her, to protect her, and it scares the crap out of me. Pulling her close to me again she rests her head against my chest and I think back to what Kailee said to me, to go for it, to do whatever it takes to continue to feel.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks meekly, her voice muffled against my chest.

  “I’m here because of you,” I answer honestly, shocking myself.

  “Why?” Her voice is shaky and I can now feel the moisture on my shirt so I know she’s crying.

  “Can we go somewhere private to talk about it?”

  She nods and steps back from me, wiping under her eyes. She takes my hand and leads me outside, much like she did when we met, except there isn’t the urgency we had that night. I glance down the street and see our vehicle and then Clayton gives me an exaggerated ‘thumbs up’ sign. What an idiot, I think as I shake my head.

  “Where’s your car?”

  “Not available,” I say with a sigh.

  “Well,” she says pulling out her phone. “We can catch a cab to your hotel.”

  “I’m not alone,” I say and she drops my hand and turns to me and I can see anger and hurt in her eyes.

  “Are you married?” she asks incredulously.

  “What! No.” And then it hits me and I laugh. “No, Dominique, it’s not like that.” I don’t know why I do it but I pull out my badge and place it in her hand. “I brought my partner with me,” I say jerking my thumb in Clayton’s direction.

  She looks towards the waiting vehicle and waves slightly and Clayton, being the doof that he is, waves back. She smiles at him and then looks at me with an innocent grin on her face. She hands me back my badge and shrugs her shoulders slightly.

  “I thought you were a hit man, sent to kill my bosses.”

  “Ahhh, is that why you ditched me?”

  She twists her face adorably and nods. She looks slightly embarrassed and then blows out an exaggerated breath before meeting my eyes. “Do you want to come to my place?”

  “I’d like that.”

  She starts texting and a few minutes later she takes my hand again. “It’s not far. You don’t mind walking, do you?”

  “No, that’s fine with me.”

  We start walking and I am becoming uneasy with her unrealistic sense of safety. This isn’t a horrendous neighborhood, but for crying out loud, it’s late, it’s dark, any one could follow her or hurt her in some way. What is she thinking?

  “You walk home this late every night?” I ask, and I can tell by the arch in her brow that my tone is not to her liking. “That seems a bit dangerous, don’t you think?” I finish with concern.

  She rolls her eyes and smiles.

  “I’m serious, Dominique. It’s dangerous to walk the streets at night. Do you carry protection?”

  She smirks. “You mean like condoms?”

  “Dominique,” I reply disapprovingly but she side eyes me and I try not to laugh. I squeeze her hand and we walk in silence for a small bit before she starts talking again.

  “So, you’re ATF too, huh?” she asks glancing at me.

  “Too?” I query.

  “I met another ATF agent, named Smith.”

  I am wracking my brain trying to think of an agent associated with this case named Smith and then she tugs on my hand so that I’ll look at her. When I do, I see that she’s grinning like a loon.

  “I’m sorry, Valentino. That’s not really his name but when he came into the hospital to talk to me he reminded me of Agent Smith from the Matrix. I was half expecting him to ask me how well I knew, Mr. Anderson,” she says, mimicking Hugo Weaving’s voice from the Matrix.

  “That’s funny,” I laugh. “You know my field director is named Anderson. Now every time I look at him I am going to think about the Matrix.”

  “You mean you don’t already?” she asks with a giggle.

  “No, I don’t,” I say shaking my head. “What was the agent’s name you spoke to?”

  She sighs. “Adams. Do you know him?”

  I nod slightly. “We’ve met.”

  She stares at me curiously and then looks forward again. “Do you know about Phillipe?” she questions and I can hear sadness in her voice.

  “Yes. I found out yesterday.”

  She looks my way and there is sorrow in her eyes. “He wasn’t so bad, Valentino.”

  “He was a criminal, Dominique,” I reply.

  She starts to say something and then stops herself, nodding as she shrugs her shoulders. We again walk in silence. I hope she didn’t start developing feelings for him, and I suddenly worry that she finally ended up going out with him. My body tenses slightly at that thought. I keep watching her, looking for clues as to what she’s thinking. She has a contemplative look on her face and I need to know what that’s about. Finally, she sighs.

  “My dad’s a high school principal, but before he did that he was a cop. He has wanted me to learn how to shoot for the longest time. I wasn’t interested, but now… I don’t know. In light of recent events, I should probably learn.”

  “I could teach you,” I blurt out.

  She glances my way. “You planning on stick around long enough to do that?”

  “I’m here until Tuesday night. We fly out on Wednesday morning.”

  She smiles before her bottom lip enters her mouth. She leads me down one more block and then we turn, entering a large apartment complex. Her apartment is on the fourth floor and when we enter I can tell that it is definitely a woman’s place. I zero in on a picture on the wall of Dominique and a guy with short dark hair, he looks Hispanic.

  “That’s my roommate, Santiago.”

  I nod and give her a questioning look. “You live with a guy?”

  She laughs. “Yes, but it’s not like you think. He’s been my best friend forever. Plus, well, he’s gay and in a relationship, so there’s that.”

  I nod. “So where is he tonight?”

  Her tongue traces over her lips and she cocks her head just slightly. “At his boyfriend’s house.”

  She walks up to me, and I know we need to talk because I have a lot of concerns for her safety, but right now I need her and I think she needs me too. I grab her, lifting her up until her mouth meets mine. Her legs wrap around my waist and her arms lock around my neck. I push her against the nearest wall I can find. My hands are all over her, feeling how her body responds to mine. Lifting her shirt, I start touching her, fiddling with her bra while my other hand unbuttons her jeans and slips inside easily.

  “You feel so good,” I mutter before my mouth attacks hers.

  “Oh God, Valentino, I need you,” she moans between kisses.

  I immediately begin pawing at her jeans. I can’t get them off in this position so I set her feet on the ground. These jeans are tight but I push them down as far as I can. I lift her up again and carry her to the couch, dropping her and grabbing her legs, pulling her jeans all the way off and tossing them over my shoulder. Meanwhile, she wiggles out of her underwear while I rip my shirt over my head, tossing it on top of her jeans. I take the condom out of my wallet and drop it on the table next to her. She is licking her lips, her beautiful body flushed with excitement. I pull one gun out of my ankle holster and one from my belt and set them on the table. Her eyes are drawn to my guns so I snap my fingers until she turns to me.

  “Focus on me, Dominique,” I say in a deep and husky voice.

  She nods as I drop my pants. She smiles before motioning with her hands that she wants me. I am all over her as we make love wildly. Our mouths and hands exploring each other. My labored breathing intensifies until I reach my peak but I keep going until her body stiffens below me. My heart is pumping fast as I strain to hold my position when I suddenly feel her heel pushing me dow
n. I smile as I nestle my head on the swell of her breast, while gently massaging the other. Her hand is running up and down my scalp and it feels so good that my eyes begin to droop.

  “Valentino, baby, let’s go lay in my bed,” she says, nudging me before I fall asleep.

  My eyes open and when I see that she is sweating from the heat of my body atop her I jump up completely. She grins and takes the condom out of my hand, wrapping it in a tissue before depositing it in the trash. She then reaches out to me and I smirk, coming to her and taking her hand in mine as she leads me to her room. For the second time in my life I am going to spend the night with a woman and this time she can’t sneak away.

  18 Morning After

  Dominique Walker

  July 30th

  I find myself waking before he does, snuggling closer to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beating. I keep replaying what he said at the bar, ‘I’m here because of you’. What did he mean by that? I hope it means that he’s been thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him, that he was worried about me, that he, I don’t know, cares about me, maybe just a little bit. My head is yelling at me to slow down, not to get attached to someone I barely know, but my heart is eager to feel the pang of love once again.

  “DOMINIQUE!” he yells and sits up quickly, knocking me away from him. He looks dazed, like he’s still dreaming.

  “Valentino, I’m right here,” I say loudly while sitting up and touching his shoulder.

  He turns to me and grabs me, encompassing me in a tight hug that almost cuts off my circulation. I start moving my hands up and down his back and after a few minutes his body becomes less tense and he loosens his hold on me. I lay us back down and his breathing starts to slow before he begins lightly snoring. What was that about? I hold him close trying to decipher what just happened and soon drift off again, that is, until my body demands attention. When I come back from the bathroom, he is laying on his side with his elbow propped up, watching me.