Mad Dog

by Ophelia Bell

  “What about you, sweetness?” I lower my voice and touch Celeste’s chin. “Does it make sense, or are we all fucking lunatics for trying?”

  She grins. “The sacrifice was worth it. We may be crazy, but that doesn’t mean we don’t make perfect sense.” Her gaze drops to my mouth, and a flutter of elation shoots through me in anticipation of her kiss. I slip my arms farther around her when she leans in, and I meet her eagerly, leaning back when she shifts positions to straddle me. My dick twitches between us, waking up again and almost ready for another round, but she doesn’t take me into her pussy like I hope. She drifts her lips across my jaw and down my throat, kissing slowly as she descends. Her hands brush the tops of my shoulders, then travel over my pecs and she scoots back on my lap as she continues to kiss her way down my chest, lingering with deliberate tenderness over my scars.

  Her eyes are open the entire way, seeing every damaged inch beneath the ink that covers my left pec and shoulder, then the scars farther down that are still bare and ugly. They cover my entire side, traveling partway down my thigh, ending just shy of my cock, and she worships all of it.

  I’m enthralled by her progress, overwhelmed by the care she takes, and near tears when I look up at Leo’s movement. He stands and comes to me, cups the back of my head, and bends down to take my mouth as Celeste slips between my legs. She takes me into her mouth and sucks me deep, and I groan against Leo’s lips.

  Leo pulls back and looks me over, watches Celeste stroke and lick me for a moment, then smiles and looks into my eyes again. “It would be pretty cheesy for me to tell you I think you’re beautiful, wouldn’t it?”

  “You fucking weirdo. Your girlfriend’s sucking my dick right now and you think I’m beautiful.”

  “Your girlfriend let me fuck her ass last night,” he retorts.

  “That was fucking beautiful,” I say and moan as Celeste hums a laugh around my cock.

  I tangle my fingers in her hair and hold her head, enjoying the way she takes me deep and her tongue flexes against the underside of my cock as she slides back off.

  “You like that?” Leo rumbles and I realize he’s resting on the fat arm of the chair, leaning sideways into me a little and stroking himself as he watches. “Because I taught her everything she knows about sucking dick.”

  I’m about to respond when the clank and clatter of the garage doors opening snaps me back to reality like a cold slap to the face. I lurch out of the chair in a panic, dislodging them both and barely registering Celeste’s startled, indignant look as I steady her and throw on the nearest pair of shorts. I’m running out the door to the catwalk before either of them can stop me, cursing myself for being so fucking stupid.

  35

  Maddox

  No, no, no, no! This can’t be happening. The thing is, I knew J.J. was due this morning with the new load of guns. I was just so distracted I forgot what day it was. I run barefoot down the steel stairs, but by the time I reach the bottom, he’s already backed the panel van up to the entrance and is hauling the first crate toward the edge to unload.

  “Wanna give me a hand with this?” he shoots over his shoulder, then does a double take and turns around. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Jesus, Mad, are those scars?”

  “You can’t be here now,” I growl under my breath. “You’ve gotta shut that truck, get back in, and drive away. Just give me a few hours until the coast is clear.”

  “Brother, we have a schedule. You agreed on it, so this isn’t a surprise.” He gives me a smirk and leans back against the truck. He eyes me up and down and shakes his head, and I can’t tell if he’s amused or shocked. Maybe a little of both. He’s never seen my scars, though he knew about the accident.

  “I’m fucking serious, J.J. You need to leave.”

  He stops gawking at my chest and his eyebrows lift. Then he tilts his head back and laughs. “I get it, brother. You finally got your sorry ass laid for the first time all year and you’re afraid of making a bad impression. Who is she?”

  “If you have any sense of self-preservation, you’ll come back later. Better yet, find a new spot to store this shit. My garage isn’t going to work anymore.”

  He narrows his eyes and straightens, and the glare he gives me so solidly brands him as our father’s offspring I’m more relieved than intimidated. “There something you want to tell me? You were on board with this arrangement for three goddamn months. Why this sudden inconvenient change of heart?”

  Several things happen at once before I can answer. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as the door to the catwalk opens behind me. J.J. glances up and his eyes go from suspicious to wide as saucers.

  Three separate voices all speak at once. The words “What the fuck?” ricochet around the garage like so many stray bullets and I flinch as if I’ve been shot.

  I turn in time to see Leo and Celeste running down the narrow metal stairs, both staring at me with expressions of shock and betrayal.

  Not at J.J. At me.

  I try to hold them off but Leo shoves me aside with a glare and goes straight for the crate. He flings it open, and I wince as if the reality of what’s inside physically wounds me.

  “Guns?” He turns and looks at me, seething and on the verge of exploding. I can already hear him yelling but by some miracle he tempers his voice. “Guns, you motherfucker?” he whisper-yells. He’s red-faced, his fists clenching, and every single muscle on his considerably cut torso is flexed as if he’s ready to tear me apart. Some idle part of my lizard brain has the gall to be turned on by how fucking magnificent he looks, especially since all he’s wearing are skimpy purple silk boxers that leave nothing to the imagination.

  “Maddox, why?” Celeste asks. “You know who my father is. You can’t do this right under his nose!”

  “I . . .” I close my eyes, unable to continue my thought because I refuse to make excuses to her. It’s no secret that Arturo Flores controls the trade of every illicit vice in Los Angeles, including guns, which he refuses to allow to be trafficked through the city. People who get caught at it typically disappear.

  Surprisingly, it’s my idiot brother who comes to my defense.

  “It was all me. Mad didn’t want to get on board until I told him the money we made could go to our baby sister’s college fund.”

  That takes the attention off me, but somehow it gets worse when Leo rounds on J.J., grabs him by the throat, and slams him against the side of the truck. “Who’s your fucking buyer?” he snarls.

  Don’t say it, I’m thinking, but I see the look in J.J.’s eyes. The guy is good at being a cagey fuck when it suits him, but he has a tell when he’s about to unleash the truth—a sort of settling of his shoulders and a slow blink as if he’s about to surrender completely. I don’t know why the fuck he just decided now was the time to do it. The asshole probably thinks he’s doing it for me.

  He lets go of the hold he has on Leo’s arm and says in a strangled voice, “It was supposed to be the Amador cartel, but I think you already know that deal got fucked, thanks to Gustavo.” He cuts his eyes to me and gives me a knowing smile. “Let me go and I’ll tell you everything.”

  “I should fucking kill you right now and take your head to Papá,” Leo says, loosening his hold enough that J.J’s feet touch the ground again. He doesn’t release him completely though.

  “But you won’t,” J.J. says, looking him right in the eyes. “I don’t know what you three have going on, but I do know my brother doesn’t let down his guard for just anyone. And I know she’s been under his skin since we were kids.” He lets out a bitter chuckle. “So it’s on me for saddling you with this, Mad. I had no idea she was back in your life or I never would have asked to store the guns here.”

  “Why do it at all?” Celeste asks. She reaches for Leo’s arm and squeezes, urging him to release my brother, who sags back against the rear of the van.

  “Why do people do anything for money? To have a better fucking life. I’m good at flying under the radar
. Usually. I guess this time I underestimated my brother’s ability to overcome all that self-loathing he brought back from Afghanistan.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Leo snaps.

  J.J. sighs and nods, then turns around, closes up the crate, and says, “I don’t suppose we can unload this shit before we talk, can we? I don’t want to leave the van parked on the street still full. You’re not gonna kill me, so just chill out, and I’m not about to run and leave my brother with his ass in the breeze.”

  Leo still has murder in his eyes, and I realize for the first time how seriously he takes his job as Arturo’s lieutenant. He’s a scary motherfucker even half naked. It’s a testament to J.J.’s cold-blooded nature that he doesn’t seem the least bit fazed.

  Leo finally relents, and the three of us make quick work of unloading the crates and stacking them in the corner. Celeste disappears back into the loft with the promise of fresh coffee when we get back up there, then J.J. leaves to park the truck while Leo and I replace the stack of tires to hide the contraband. The camouflage seems like overkill now that the secret’s out in the worst way possible, but I can’t relax as long as the crates are visible.

  “I can’t fucking believe I’m helping you,” Leo mutters. “I’m not even wearing pants.”

  I’m still in my skivvies and barefoot too, and I give him a coy once-over. “It’s a look I’m on board with. Would it help if I offered to make it up to you later?”

  His cheeks redden, and he can’t disguise the slight tightening of the revealing fabric over his crotch. “Stop it, will you? You know I have to take this to Papá Flores. Keeping secrets from him is a good way to die.”

  “So does that mean you’re going to tell him about us? And I don’t just mean the threesome. I mean you and me. What we have with each other.”

  He places the last tire on top of the stack of crates in silence, studiously avoiding looking at me. My heart sinks a little. If he regrets last night—

  “I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t, wouldn’t I?” he says, finally looking at me. “Besides, I don’t think Celeste would let me back out of this even if I wanted to.”

  “Do you want to?”

  He’s no longer gripped with that terrifying ferocity he had earlier. In fact, he looks a little afraid and out of his element, so I move to close the distance but he puts his hands up. I stop and frown at him.

  “I want this . . . I do. But I think it might take time for it to sink in that this is who I am now. I’m still trying to wrap my head around where I landed in the Flores organization. Processing this relationship, where it all fits, is just another challenge. One thing at a time, right?”

  He drops his hands, and I take the last two steps to reach him. I grip the back of his neck with both hands and pull him close, pressing my forehead to his. “I’m not going anywhere. Now that I’m this close to having everything I want, I will wait as long as you need for you to meet me the rest of the way, got it?”

  He lets out a shuddering sigh, hooking his hands over my biceps, and nods. Heat builds between us, and the look in his eyes is enough for me to tilt my head so our noses brush, readying for the kiss.

  My lips graze Leo’s, and he’s angling in for a deeper kiss when footsteps approach, but I ignore them. I don’t give a fuck if J.J. catches us. He didn’t seem surprised by the idea I might’ve been fucking a dude earlier, so now he’ll get the undisputed proof.

  “Well, isn’t this a fucking sight,” says a raspy Latino voice that definitely does not belong to my brother. “Why am I not surprised you two are a couple faggots? Grab them!”

  Before I can get my bearings, several pairs of hands grab me from behind. Two men have Leo by the arms, and he rips away, rounding on them and landing a punch on one man’s nose so hard blood flies when his head snaps back. The move looks more like trained martial arts than the chaotic street fighting I’d have expected to see from him.

  I wrench my arm from the grasp of one of the guys who tried to grab me, and spin around swinging. My fist connects with a jaw and I get my other arm free, using it to aim for another face. But twin spikes of pain spear my back before cold, electric fire slams into me and I go rigid, my body paralyzed. A second later, I collapse, and the world goes dark.

  36

  Celeste

  Evidently, Maddox subsists on coffee, beer, and tequila because there isn’t a whole lot more to speak of in his pantry or fridge. I find a handful of Hot Pockets in his freezer and finally give up and look for his takeout menus, hoping one of them delivers breakfast. After the revelations this morning, food is a necessity to maintain the peace. My phone in hand, I’m starting to dial when an agonized yell echoes up from the garage.

  I freeze, and when a second pained yelp rises, I rush to the window and peer out, heart pounding. The pane of glass is too grimy to see clearly, yet there’s no mistaking the two nearly naked figures lying prone on the floor of the garage with several black-clad men hovering around them. But it’s the voice of the figure spitting commands that makes my blood run cold.

  Gustavo is alive.

  My first instinct is to run out, to yell at Gustavo to stop, and I dart to the door to the catwalk to do just that. But I stop myself with my hand on the knob when heavy footsteps hit the metal steps. I can’t let him find me. Maddox and Leo are tough guys, and they aren’t the kind of ammunition Gustavo would need to get to Papá. I, on the other hand, would be just the prize Gustavo’s looking for. I have a better chance of helping them if I can get out and call Papá.

  I flip the lock on the knob to slow Gustavo down and dart back to the other room, where my clothes are still scattered on the floor. Slipping into my heels, I grab my other things and throw on my raincoat over Maddox’s T-shirt without bothering to change. I carry all my things into the elevator and slam the gate shut, pressing the button in a frenzy to get the old machinery to move faster.

  I reach the first floor as the crash of breaking glass sounds from above, but I don’t linger long enough to let Gustavo catch up to me. The way I came in last night is not an option, not with the garage full of mercenaries. The front of the shop is closer anyway, so I run through, flip the lock, and keep going out the door. I wince at the sound of the bell jangling overhead, apologizing under my breath that I can’t lock up behind me. I keep moving at a brisk walk, positive that to any outside observer I must look like a desperate woman doing a walk of shame after a one-night stand. At least it’s too early for more than a handful of vagrants to bear witness.

  The coffee shop on the corner is open so I slip inside, heading straight to the restroom and locking the door behind me before I pull out my phone and call Papá. He answers on the first ring.

  “Mija, where are you? Elena said you and Leo didn’t come home last night. Is something wrong?” His voice is strident and commanding, yet somehow still gentle.

  “Gustavo’s alive, Papá. He has Leo and Maddox. I don’t know what he’s going to do with them, but I couldn’t stay . . .” My voice starts to shake and I struggle to keep my shit together.

  “Where are you? Tell me and I’ll send Amon to get you.”

  “I’m at the coffee shop on the corner by Marcella’s studio.”

  “Go to St. Bartholomew’s and wait there. It’s only one block from where you are now.”

  “All right,” I say, picturing the grand architecture of the Catholic church we occasionally attended when I was a child.

  “Good. I’m conferencing Amon in. Leave the line open for me. As soon as I reach Amon, I’m coming home.”

  “Thank you.”

  I tuck my phone in my pocket without ending the call and slip out of the restroom, ignoring the irritated looks of the baristas when I leave without buying a coffee.

  Back outside, I walk as briskly as I can down the rain-soaked sidewalks and make it to the church a few minutes later. It’s still dark, but the doors are blessedly unlocked and I slip inside. Soft footsteps echo from somewhere else in the building, reaching
my ears as the scent of fresh coffee hits my nose. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s late enough for the pastor to be awake and preparing for Sunday services.

  I don’t want to bother anyone, so I slip quietly into a pew at the back of the church and wait.

  Forcing myself to breathe, I finally resort to actual prayer. I close my eyes and clench my fingers together on my lap, pleading with any higher power who will listen to keep Leo and Maddox alive until Papá can send someone. When my heart rate finally calms, I regain enough presence of mind to find a restroom, where I get dressed and try to put myself together so I’m not flaunting my night out in front of Papá’s fixer. I’ll have to explain my absence to Papá at some point, but God willing not until my men are safe again.

  I’m just exiting the restroom when a voice bleats from inside my coat pocket and I fish my phone out and hold it to my ear. “Papá?”

  It’s Amon’s brusque Slavic voice that answers. “Celeste. I am outside. Hurry.”

  I head straight for the exit and spot the black luxury sedan on the corner. The passenger door opens just before I reach it, and Amon’s pale face peeks out. I slide in and he’s already driving as I shut the door and engage my seat belt.

  “Where are you going?” I ask in alarm as he heads away from downtown.

  “I must take you home.”

  “No! We have to go back. We need to call in help! They might still be there.” I fish my phone back out of my pocket and put it to my ear. “Papá, tell him we have to go back!”

  “It’s too late, Celeste. I sent men over after calling Amon. They were already gone. They found an abandoned van at the end of the alley and signs of a struggle there too.”

  Maddox’s brother was driving the van. He was probably the one Gustavo wanted, and he took Leo and Maddox for leverage. Nausea grips me and I close my eyes, shaking my head to fend off the helpless sensation. I refuse to accept that there’s nothing we can do. “Where would Gustavo take them? We have to find them!”