No Fury

by Tabatha Kiss

  “I’m supposed to take your word for it, because…?”

  “Dude…” He sighs. “If I didn’t want to help you, I wouldn’t be here. Your brood has already given me plenty of reasons to torch your whole family tree — and believe me when I say I’ve had more than a few opportunities to do so. I might not look like much but I am the one guy on this plane you really don’t want to piss off, pal.”

  I lean back and smile. “Pal?”

  He winces. “Sorry. I don’t wear tough guy all that well. But seriously. Have a little faith, Wisconsin. We’ve all got something to lose here.”

  I pause as he walks back to his seat again, each step punching me a little harder in the gut.

  Wisconsin. He really could torch my entire world with a few strokes of his keyboard. No wonder Fox puts so much stock in this guy.

  I glance at Fox a few rows away. He smirks at me, having heard the whole thing.

  I turn and walk to the front of the plane to grab a few drinks off the cart in the corner. The lone flight attendant looks up at me and he gives me a nod, letting me take whatever I want.

  With a bottle of whiskey and two plastic cups in hand, I return to the main cabin and sit down in the seat next to Fox.

  “Fox…” I place a cup down in front of him. “Tell me about your girl again. The one who inspired this whole mess.”

  He eyes the cup as I fill it. “This isn’t her fault,” he says.

  “I didn’t say it was.” I take a sip from my own cup, waiting patiently for him to say something.

  “She’s…” He pauses. “She’s Dani.”

  “Stepsister, if I remember right?” I ask.

  “Right.”

  “Awkward.”

  “Little bit.” He takes a sip, followed by a quick breath as it burns down his throat. “But not really an issue, turns out. I’m just not good enough for her as a man.”

  “Says who?”

  “Her dad.”

  My jaw drops. “He said that?”

  “To my face.”

  “Christ, you only saved her life.”

  He throws up a hand. “That’s what I said!”

  “Solid military record. Cool fucking scar on your cheek. What more does he want?”

  Fox laughs. “Who knows, man.” He takes another drink from his cup and his face grows a little more serious. “Thank you for not involving her in any of this.”

  “You don’t mess with innocent bystanders,” I say. “What Mercer did to her was out of line and if I hadn’t had been undercover at the time, I would have told him that.”

  “Thanks,” he says again. “I wondered where you were then.”

  “You mean when he dragged the rest of our squad across the country chasing you down? Killing people on live TV and blowing up hotels?”

  “Yeah.” His brow furrows with angry lines. “Can’t say I looked forward to killing you, to be honest.”

  “But you would have?” I ask.

  “To save her, yes.”

  Blunt and honest. That’s Fox Fitzpatrick.

  I look to Lucy again. “I was working for the Zappia family in Chicago,” I tell him.

  His head tilts in curiosity. “Really?”

  “Myra sent me and Spencer in to find out if you leaked the list to anyone else.”

  “I didn’t,” he confirms. “Not the Zappias, anyway.”

  “Well, I know that now,” I joke. “After a few months of taking out Antony’s trash as his errand boy, I met Lucy. Two days later, Snake Eyes was exposed and, long story short, we ran off grid.”

  “After two days?”

  “A lot can happen in a day. Even more in two.” My gaze falls to Lucy’s right knee. “Marty Zappia killed her father.”

  “Is that right?” he muses.

  “He beat her,” I continue, “left her there to die and she would have if I hadn’t…”

  Fox follows my stare with trained eyes, easily seeing the straight and stiff way Lucy holds her leg out. The difference in air pressure must be giving her trouble. My instincts tug me to call out to Elijah and his medkit full of painkillers and healing aids, but I bite my cheek.

  I bite it so hard, I taste blood.

  “I shot him in the face,” I say.

  “Really?” Fox asks, his voice perking up.

  “Twice.”

  He nods. “I threw Gio out of a plane.”

  My lips twitch. “I drowned Enzo in my backyard.”

  Fox snorts, his face softening as he holds in his laugh. “Small world.”

  “Only good Zappia’s a dead Zappia,” I say with a grin.

  He raises his cup. “I won’t disagree.”

  We both take a drink and succumb to a heavy silence for a few moments.

  “I am sorry,” Fox says, his tongue loose with booze. “I often wonder how many lives were destroyed that day but I’ll never really know. Not sure I even want to know.” He pauses, inhaling deep. “I still think, even with everything that’s happened, that I did the right thing.”

  It’s a hard truth to swallow. The right thing? That’s debatable. Eleven innocent people, Lucy’s father included, were murdered because of what Fox did. I killed Spencer to keep him from killing Lucy. He was a mentor to me for nearly a decade.

  Thousands of agents were outed that day. The damage of exposure still ripples throughout the world, destroying lives every single day.

  Actions have consequences.

  I look over at Lucy again. She rests her head against her hand, softly balanced on the armrest beside her with her eyes closed.

  In the end, I found life in this tragedy. I’d hate to think I was the only one.

  “You know what, Fox?” I say. “I think you did, too.”

  He nods slowly and exhales the breath he was holding. “Does that mean I don’t have to worry about you making good on your threat to kill me anytime soon?” he asks.

  “Not today,” I say. “Lilah, however… she’s still pretty raw.”

  “I’ll watch my back, then.” Fox glances around the cabin. “Where is Lilah?”

  The vein in my forehead throbs. “Oh, she went into the bathroom about five minutes ago.”

  “And Archer?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

  “He went in there ten minutes ago.”

  I chug my drink and Fox chuckles.

  “And what do you intend to do about that?” he asks.

  I exhale in defeat. “Nothing. She’s a big girl and he’s… Well, she could do worse. I’ll give him that.”

  Fox reaches for the bottle and refills my cup.

  Fourteen

  Lilah

  “Shh!” Archer scolds me again.

  I bite my lip to hold back my moan. It rattles in my throat but that just makes me want to scream even louder.

  He lets out an angry growl as I dig my nails into his back, nearly tearing right through his shirt. “Bloody hell, woman. There’s a human being in this bag of meat, you know.”

  “Then, you should fuck me like I told you to,” I say, clenching my pussy even tighter around his thrusting cock.

  “Hm, yes,” he muses, smirking at me. “Have freakishly loud, rough sex with my girlfriend in an airplane washroom while her big brother sits a wall away or make it to Boston without getting tossed out over Ohio. Tough call.”

  I laugh. “I’m sure he’ll throw a parachute right behind you.”

  “I’m already on Dante’s shit list, love,” he says, cupping my ass and raising me up a little higher on the sink. “Not about to make it worse.”

  “He doesn’t hate you that much.”

  Archer pinches my chin between two strong fingers. “Answer’s no,” he says. “I’ll do you this way or no way. Your choice.”

  I yield and retract my claws. It’s not like I won’t get off just fine either way. I just prefer something a little more numbing these days. Pain is a good distraction.

  I lock my ankles together behind his back to draw him deeper inside. Archer grinds in me, letti
ng out quiet, breathy groans. He’s holding back for obvious reasons. I wish he wouldn’t but as he said, it’s this way or no way.

  I kiss him as a rush of heat builds between us. The smooth gyrations tease me more than I’d like but pleasure seeps its way in eventually. I moan softly into his mouth as I suck on his bottom lip.

  “Archer,” I whisper, needing more. “Eat me out.”

  He shifts downward without a word, pulling out and dropping to his knees. I grip his hair and he instantly sucks my clit into his mouth.

  “Yes,” I breathe. I roll my hips against his face, rubbing his tongue where I want it. Pleasure strikes deeper and my thighs quiver on his cheeks.

  Archer reaches a hand up my body, feeling my breasts over my shirt before landing on my moaning mouth. He sticks two fingers between my teeth and I bite down hard to keep quiet.

  I come hard, twisting and writhing, but Archer holds me together. His touch is soft and gentle. His kiss is warm and comforting. It’s not what I’m used to but I like it. Just might even love it someday.

  He rises again as I sit still, feeling every inch of my body buzzing with bliss. As I start to breathe, I feel him align his cock with my dripping cunt again. He plunges in, taking me deep and I gasp as another wave of warm urges tickle at me.

  Archer buries his face in my shoulder, his eyes closed in concentration. I caress his body, touching down his neck and arms. I kiss his forehead and breathe pleasures into his ears. He likes it when I do that. I like it when he gets off from it.

  See? I can be a decent girlfriend sometimes.

  Archer tenses and exhales one last silent groan as he comes inside of me. I let out a long, blissful sigh, feeling every quick pulse of his cock deep in me. He slowly pulls out and I kiss his cheek, thankful for the pleasant tickles still throbbing my dripping slit.

  “Not bad,” I hum.

  He chuckles. “That’s fairly high marks from you, love. I’ll take it.”

  “Oh, I’ve definitely had worse.”

  I slide off the sink and grab a wad of toilet paper to dry myself off with. He flicks on the water and we clean ourselves as we listen to the hum of jet engines.

  I bend down and grab my jeans, fishing inside for my panties first.

  “Did you hear about Caleb?”

  I glance up to find Archer staring down at me. “What about her?” I ask.

  He turns and leans against the door as he zips his pants. “She’s pregnant,” he says.

  I snort. “Really?”

  “Yes. Hence her sudden absence and the extreme fear oozing from Boxcar’s face at all times.”

  “Well, that’s a shock,” I quip. I sit down on the toilet seat to slip my boots on. “I thought two women couldn’t naturally conceive. Good for them.”

  He laughs. “Right.”

  I lace up my boots, feeling the air in the room grow slightly heavier. “What about it?” I ask.

  “It just got me thinking.”

  “Got you thinking about what?”

  He clears his throat. “Do you want kids?”

  I blink. “We’ve been together a week, Archer.”

  “I know.”

  “Don’t you think it’s a little early to be having this conversation? You haven’t even seen me pee.”

  “I think the start of a relationship is the preferred time to establish intentions.”

  I stand up off the toilet seat. “Well, I have no intentions. I don’t have time for intentions and that may never change.”

  He stays still, blocking the door. “Do you think, given a reasonable amount of time in the future, that I can expect you and I to procreate?”

  I cringe. “Eh, why’d you have to phrase it like that? Now it’s weird.”

  Archer smiles. “Yes or no, love?”

  Kids. Honestly, I’ve never really thought about it. It’s not exactly part of the plan when you work as a mercenary-for-hire. Sure, agents have tried to live the best of both worlds in the past but it never works out. In the end, something’s gotta give. Family usually pays that price.

  But if Snake Eyes is over and done with, then what’s next for me? Join up with some other assassin squad? Or do what my brothers wanted to do and live normal, quiet lives?

  I exhale and look up into Archer’s patience face. “I don’t know,” I answer. “Always been more-or-less on the fence when it comes to kids, but… Yeah? Maybe given a reasonable amount of time together… and we’re still alive.”

  He smirks. “Obviously.”

  “I might consider…” I wince, “procreation.”

  “With me?”

  “With you.”

  Archer nods, his chiseled face giving me nothing of his true thoughts. “All right.”

  He turns to leave.

  “Wait…” I say, stopping him. “What about you?”

  His head tilts. “What about me?”

  “Do you want kids?”

  He frowns. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

  I twitch with anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Archer laughs and he lays his hands on my shoulders. “Yes,” he says. “I would absolutely consider maybe someday having adorable babies with you.”

  “Okay, then.” I gesture toward the door. “Now, we should probably get out of here before it’s super obvious we’ve been fucking.”

  “I’ll go first.” He twists back to look at me. “And, by the way, I have seen you pee.”

  I smack his shoulder. “I knew you snuck a peek, you big perv.”

  He opens the door and discreetly walks out.

  I wait until it slides closed again before I let the smile stretch across my face.

  Fifteen

  Boxcar

  Home sweet home.

  I use the term loosely, of course. Boston was just the last place I spent enough time in to have to pay rent. Home shifts more often than the wind in my case but Boston always ranked pretty high on that list. Great culture, decent booze. Lots of local color to make things interesting. And best of all…

  Cherry-cherry cupcakes.

  “I remember this place,” Lilah muses as we climb the stairs to my condo. “This is where you stuffed your tail between your legs and ran away to your husband.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yep. The same place you and your brother didn’t figure out I hopped out the window for at least ten minutes. Tell me again about how Snake Eyes agents are supposed to be the best in the world.”

  “Guys…” Fox says. “Knock it off.”

  I glare at Lilah. Her face twisted an even darker shade of anger the second I mentioned her brother. I’d throw out some sympathy but she beat up my wife. I’m just not there yet.

  I tap in my access code and swipe my keycard to unlock the door, silently saying a prayer that I didn’t get robbed in the few weeks since I left.

  Luckily, a quick scan of the living room puts me at ease.

  “Welcome to casa de la Boxcar,” I tell the group. “Don’t touch anything you can’t pronounce. Raid the kitchen if you want but I can’t guarantee anything is fresh…”

  They all walk in behind me. I don’t feel great about it. This place was my private sanctuary. Letting three Snake Eyes agents wander around in it makes me more than a little nervous, even if one of them is my best friend.

  I lay my bag down on the counter and reach for my phone. A message should be coming in any minute now from Milo to come pick up our order.

  “How are you doing?”

  I turn, finding Fox lingering behind my shoulder. “Oh, you know. I drift in and out. You?”

  He looks around at the strangers scattered on my living room furniture. “I can think of a few places I’d rather be,” he says.

  “Speaking of…” I stare at the phone in my hand. “I told Caleb I’d call when we got here.”

  Fox nods slowly.

  “Are you going to call Dani?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  “Why not?”

 
; “It’d just be a distraction,” he says. “I can’t focus on the job with her voice in my head.”

  I squint. “Dude, that’s cold.”

  “That’s the truth. It’ll make you question your instincts. Also, if you call Caleb now, she’ll just think something is wrong.”

  I study his face as his eyes turn a little darker. Fox has experienced more heartache than most of us even touch in a lifetime, and he lived to tell the story. I should probably take his advice but I made a promise to my wife.

  I hold up the phone. “I’ll tell her you said hi.”

  He nods and walks back into the living room to sit with the others.

  It only rings once.

  “Box?”

  I smile. “Hey, Cal—”

  “What’s wrong?” she asks. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. We’re fine. Everyone’s fine.” I glance over my shoulder into the living room, making eye contact with Fox.

  He smiles.

  “We’re all just…” I turn away from him. “We just made it to Boston, so I wanted to call and check in. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine,” she says. “Though, it’d be nice if people stopped asking me that.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Seriously, I’m barely pregnant,” she adds. “I probably won’t feel symptoms for another week or so, if these books are to be believed.”

  My lips twitch. “You’re reading the baby books?”

  “I’m skimming them while Dani drives. Mostly just trying not to look at the pictures.”

  I laugh. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Tell that to your wallet,” she quips.

  My smile drops. “What?”

  “Having a baby is going to get really expensive, really fast, Boxcar.”

  “It is?”

  “Yeah,” she says with a scoff. “Baby necessities aside — have you seen the potential hospital bills? This might be a really shitty time to tell you this but I don’t have health insurance.”

  I swallow. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Selling my shop isn’t even going to begin to cover this. We are so screwed, Box.”

  “Well, hold on. Don’t you get some health benefits for being a veteran or something?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” she says. “But I wouldn’t count on it. They weren’t my biggest fans when they discharged me.”