by Nina Levine
“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” he murmured.
“I want to feel loved and special. I don’t want to ever know the feeling of being discarded ever again, like I did over and over with the families who were happy to have me for the money they made off the government, but quick to discard me when I no longer suited their life anymore. You hear stories of kids who are abused in the system. I never experienced abuse, but neglect and lack of love fucks you up, too. So, after a couple of one-night-stands when I was younger, I decided they weren’t for me. I’d rather have no sex than casual sex that means nothing, and makes me feel like shit all over again when the guy leaves without a second glance.” Shit, this was dredging up feelings I usually did my best to avoid; feelings I buried so deep I didn’t even know where to look for them anymore.
He sat watching me, and I knew he was processing every word I’d said by the thoughtful look on his face. Ghosts of the past filled the room, lingering like a nightmare you wanted to forget, but couldn’t. And I sensed they weren’t only my ghosts. I sensed that Griff carried ghosts the way most people carried happy memories.
“I had love once…well, at least I thought I did. Fuck, I thought I had something special, but that’s the thing about love – how do you know when the other person feels the same way? How do you know they’re not playing you, and hedging bets between you and someone else? That makes you feel like shit. I won’t go there again,” he said, and I watched him sitting in his pain, and my heart hurt for whatever he’d gone through. I wanted to slap the woman who’d done that to him, because she’d taken a man who was open to love, and made him close his heart to the possibilities of everything love had to offer.
“We’re not all like that,” I said softly.
“Neither are the men who know how to treat a woman right for one night only,” he replied, watching me closely, and I felt like we were at a checkmate. Both clinging to what we needed, neither willing to bend.
Not sure where to take the conversation now, I sat in silence, and then Griff stood abruptly. He looked down at me with an expression I couldn’t pick, but if I were to try, I’d say he seemed torn over something. “It’s late. I’ll let you get to bed,” he said before leaving me to take his glass into the kitchen.
I followed him, wanting every moment I could have to watch him. Even the way he moved was a turn-on. His body moved with a sense of authority and power, and I’d always found men who had that take-charge attitude hot.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, I waited while he rinsed his glass and placed it next to the sink. When he faced me again, the desire I saw in his eyes made my core clench.
He closed the distance between us and stepped into my personal space. Although his body remained rigid in the way I was grasping was Griff’s way, and although he kept his emotions tucked away and his face bare of them, his desire rang out loud and clear.
He wants me.
But he’s denying himself.
In that moment, I felt everything he was feeling.
Want and denial seemed to be something we had in common.
He surprised the hell out of me when he reached out, cupped my cheek, and traced his thumb over my lips. His touch was so gentle and yet so firm in the one stroke. He shifted his gaze from my lips to my eyes. “Beautiful,” he murmured, and my heart beat faster at that word. “Don’t doubt yourself, sweetheart,” he added before letting my cheek go and striding down my hallway without another word.
I wanted to go after him and take back everything I’d said about one-night-stands. And I wanted to let him take over my body for this one night, regardless of the fact he’d get up and walk out when he was finished. And, damn, I wanted to try and make him change his mind about dating.
But I didn’t.
I stood rooted to the spot and watched him walk through my front door.
I let him leave, and I let our want and denial swirl in the air like a memory of a moment that you wanted to be so much more than a moment.
8
Griff
I hit the bar half an hour after leaving Sophia’s house. The bartender jerked his chin in greeting and placed a drink in front of me a moment later. I sucked the alcohol down, and hissed at the burn, but, fuck, I needed it.
Sophia was stuck in my mind, parts of our conversation on repeat.
We’re not all like that.
Fuck, I believed everything that came out of that woman’s mouth, but my mind got stuck on this, unable to believe it, but at the same time, unable to move past it. And yet, even if I accepted it to be true from her, she was not a woman I should even consider tainting with my needs. Sophia was all lightness, while all I had running through my veins these days was dark.
“Hi, gorgeous,” a voice came from beside me. I turned and found a hot brunette smiling at me. “Wanna buy me a drink?”
I assessed her. Sexy with curves in all the right places, and the look of a woman who did this kind of thing often, she would be perfect to take my mind off everything. I wanted to want to buy her a drink. Hell, I wanted a lot of fucking things – and it had been so fucking long for me that I needed them at this point – but I couldn’t bring myself to say yes. Shaking my head, I said, “Sorry, babe, I’m tapped out tonight.”
She shrugged. “How about I buy you a drink then?” Her gaze travelled over my body, lust flashing in her eyes. And Jesus, that should have gotten me hard, but here I sat, soft as a fucking eighty year old.
“Another time, maybe,” I said with regret. I wasn’t sure if my regret stemmed from not wanting her or from wanting someone else who I’d never allow myself to have.
Surprise flickered on her face, but she got the message and left me alone. Thank Christ my phone rang at that point, because I didn’t want to sit with my thoughts of Sophia any longer.
“Danny,” I greeted my cousin. “You’re finally returning my call.” I’d left a message for him hours ago. “Was beginning to think I’d have to pay you a visit.”
“Don’t be an asshole, Michael. I was working and didn’t have time for a family catch-up call,” he said, sounding as impressed to be having this phone call as I was.
“This isn’t a family catch-up. This is a have-you-sorted-that-shit-out-yet kinda call.”
He blew out a harsh breath. “Fuck, it’s not as easy as phoning someone and getting you taken off a roster.”
I threw more alcohol down. “You need to make it as easy as that or I will. And, Danny, you don’t want me to get involved in this. You thought I didn’t have much of a conscience back then…I have even less of one now.”
He made a noise and I practically heard his scowl through the phone. “I remember the kid you used to be. What the hell happened to you to turn you into this thug?”
“You know what the fuck happened to me,” I snarled. Fuck. “And now I have nothing to lose, except my freedom, so I’ll do whatever it takes to protect that.”
“Jesus.” He stopped talking for a moment, before saying, “We lost our main witness. Without you, the case isn’t as solid.”
I wanted to give a fuck. I truly did. Mostly because as much as we’d cut ties four years ago, he’d had my back when we were younger. But also because the asshole on trial deserved to be punished. However, I had nothing in me. I’d lost the ability to care about anyone or anything but Storm and Josie somewhere along the line.
In the end, I suggested, “Find a way to cut him loose. I’ll take care of him once he’s back on the streets.”
“Do you think you’re some kind of God? You wouldn’t even get past his first line of defence, Michael. Bond’s got men watching his back, and taking care of any threat that comes up. Why the fuck do you think we don’t have a star witness anymore?”
I slammed my glass down on the bar. “You wanna see just what I’m capable of, Danny? Give me a day and I’ll show you. And then maybe you’ll stop underestimating me, and start taking what I’m saying seriously. I’m not going down for the shit in my past I can’t erase.”
/> “Do you want to know what I take seriously? My job. So stop fucking talking before I have to do my job and fucking investigate you.”
“Have at it, you won’t be able to pin anything on me. My work is clean as fuck.”
“Jesus!” He swore under his breath. “This conversation is over. Bond is going to trial and you’re going to have to testify. Get your shit together and get ready for it.” He ended the call, and I placed my phone down on the bar as calmly as I felt.
Time to get to work.
* * *
Josie: Come to lunch at mine today. It’s Christmas Day and I want to see my nephew.
Me: I’m busy.
Josie: Make yourself unbusy.
Me: Is this another attempt to set me up with Sophia? She and I have spoken and nothing will happen there.
Josie: No, I’m gathering all my orphans together like I do every Christmas. It’s been ten years this year, Michael. You need to come this year. I don’t want you alone today.
I swore as I dropped my phone on my bed. I should never have taught her how to send a text. Unwrapping the towel from around my waist, I used it to dry my hair. I had plans today – plans that didn’t include Josie and her good intentions. However, I knew she’d never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t go to her lunch. And having to see her give me that Josie look of reproach for the next few months wasn’t something I wanted to experience.
Me: I might be late.
Josie: I’ll save you a plate.
I got dressed, shoved my phone in my pocket, grabbed my keys and headed out to take care of business.
And then it’d be happy families with Josie.
And a waiting game for Danny to realise I meant business.
* * *
I sat down the street from the familiar building of years ago. I’d lost count of how many hours I’d spent outside this building during that investigation.
Bond’s mansion.
Supposedly an impenetrable fortress.
I knew better and had confirmed it during the hours I’d spent last night hacking into their surveillance and computer systems. Not much had changed in the last four years, and that was a major error on their behalf because it would make what I was about to do that much easier. Knowledge is king, and I had all the knowledge I needed to make this happen.
Leaving my bike, I pulled my leather gloves and ski mask on and walked around the block to the back gate where I knew they had one guy stationed. As I rounded the corner, I took him in. Not as big as he’d appeared on the surveillance footage which went in my favour.
He had his back to me as I approached. When I made it to where he stood, I tapped him on the shoulder, and when he turned to face me, I pointed my gun in his face and reached for his two-way.
“What the fuck?” he sneered. “You do realise you’re about to have at least three guys on you, right?”
“How long do you give them?” I asked, not wanting to drag this out but unable to resist playing with him a little.
“Less than a minute. Probably less than thirty seconds.”
“So they should be here by now, then?”
“Any minute, asshole,” he spat out, his nostrils flaring, and his face full of contempt.
I pressed my gun hard against his forehead. “I’ll give you a head’s up, asshole – we’d grow old waiting for them.”
Understanding dawned on his face – he finally realised I’d fixed the surveillance so it didn’t show anything I was about to do. “Who the fuck are you?”
Yeah, that’s the question I’d be asking, too. I put my hand out while I kept my gun firm against his forehead. Ignoring his question, I said, “Give me the keys to the gate and the code.” Bond’s house had codes all the way through it, but I’d discovered the front gate code changed every hour as an added precaution.
“Fuck you.”
I raised my brows. “Really? You’d rather die here and leave a beautiful family behind that I might be inclined to pay a visit to than give me the goddamn keys?”
His eyes widened. “You’re bullshitting me. You know nothing about me or my family.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised what I know, Justin. Like the fact your wife attends pilates every Tuesday morning and your daughter goes to swimming lessons every Thursday afternoon after school but only after your wife makes her weekly stop at Baskin Robbins for ice cream.”
He stared at me for a moment, taking all that in. “Motherfucker.”
“Yeah, the world’s a bitch now that we have all this technology, but the kicker is when someone actually knows how to access that information and use it to their advantage. I’m all your nightmares come to life, so hand the fucking keys over and give me the goddamn code.” Time was ticking, and I needed to hurry this along.
He gave me the keys and told me the code.
“Good doing business with you,” I muttered as I eyed the fear on his face. “Take a breath, asshole, I’m not gonna shoot you. It’s Christmas, and you’ve got a family to get home to later. But if you get any ideas to do anything crazy, just recall how much I know about your wife and kids.”
Before he had a chance to say anything, I punched him hard in the face. He dropped to the ground, and I finished the job with a few more punches. I needed him unconscious long enough for me to get in and get out, which I’d calculated had to be ten minutes at the most.
I moved fast, entering through the back gate, and making my way quickly and quietly along the path to the entrance at the back of the building. The map of the house was burned in my memory, and I needed to get to a room on the other side of the house to where I was. I knew through the research I’d conducted last night that most of the housekeeping staff had been given today off due it to being Christmas Day so that made my goal a little easier. But I had, at most, four guys to get through before I reached my target, so I remained alert and focused, ready to deal with them as they came my way.
The rugs on the floor helped silence the sounds of my boots as I tracked through the rooms. Each room had a locked door on it, and thanks to my research, I had the codes for each door, so I keyed them in as I went. Thank God for a photographic memory. I was halfway to my destination when I came across the first guard. He was sitting in front of a television watching it when he caught sight of me. Surprise crossed his face, and he tried to stand, but I was too quick for him. I moved directly in front of him, and punched him on the cheek with such force it caused him to fall onto the couch. Before he was able to get his bearings and attempt to come back at me, I continued punching him until he was unconscious.
Once I was sure he was out cold, I kept moving through the house. I was almost at my destination when another guard stepped into the hallway in front of me. Surprised, he whipped his gun out fast and aimed it at me. He pulled the trigger, but I ducked just in time to avoid the bullet. As I ducked, I aimed my gun at his foot and shot him there.
“Fuck!” he roared as he collapsed in pain, blood going everywhere. Looking up at me, he demanded, “Who are you?”
I crouched next to him, grabbed his gun from him, and answered, “All your bad dreams rolled into one.” And then I punched him. He didn’t go down without a fight, though, and attempted to roll away from me.
Watching him, I said, “It’s kinda hard to walk when you’ve been shot in the foot. You could probably limp but you wouldn’t be going anywhere fast. And you’d be pissing me off, and then you wouldn’t be seeing your son anytime soon if I lost my patience, and decided to shoot you rather than simply knock you unconscious and let you live.” I shrugged. “Your choice.”
“Leave my family out of this,” he snarled.
“Can’t do that, seems as though they’re all I’ve got to barter with. And damn, man, that wife of yours? She’s a cracker. You wouldn’t want to leave her behind.” I needed to push him hard so he made the right choice here.
His eyes narrowed on me, assessing, deciding. “You fucking would, too, wouldn’t you?”
I could only h
azard a guess at what he meant, but it didn’t really matter what he meant. All that mattered was the fear I heard in his voice, and that fear was the key to me reaching my goal today. “I would,” I agreed.
“What do you want?”
“Ah, now that’s a more useful topic of conversation,” I said as I advanced towards him. Without hesitation, I pulled my fist back and knocked him out cold in three punches.
I straightened and checked the time on my watch. Still on track.
As I headed down the last part of the hallway before I reached my destination, I prepared myself for what I might walk in on. My target today was Bond’s brother, a pig of a man known for his predilection for young boys. I had to remind myself why I was here – to get in, make the kill, and then get out. As much as his preference sickened me, and I’d prefer to bring him a world of pain today rather than simply end his life, it wasn’t part of my plan.
I keyed in the code to his room and entered. He was still asleep. Thank fuck. I moved to his side of the bed and removed his gun from the bedside table. After placing it in his chest of drawers, I made sure there were no other weapons in his reach. When I was convinced there were none, I tapped my gun on his head. “Wake up, motherfucker.”
He was a deep sleeper and only stirred slightly, so I moved my mouth closer to his ear, tapped his head harder and said louder than before, “Wake up, Richard. The devil’s calling today.”
His eyes blinked open and he scrambled to a sitting position. Staring at me, he snapped, “What the fuck?”
The element of surprise was a wonderful tool, and I had my hand wrapped around his throat before he even formed a thought to defend himself. Shoving him hard against the headboard of his bed, I placed my gun to his forehead, and said, “I’ve got a message from all the boys whose lives you’ve fucked up. Your dick won’t get to ruin anyone else’s life.” I moved my gun, aimed it at his dick and fired.
