Into the Storm

by Susan Fanetti

  “No other way, boss. Had to be today. And it’s my weight to carry.” To change the subject, he asked, “Shouldn’t you be at home?”

  Isaac’s laugh at that was rueful at best. “Yeah, well. Takin’ a time out. Woman’s got her battle gear on.”

  “You storm out or she throw you out?” He knew the answer—they were both stormers, not throwers.

  Isaac shrugged—he knew Show knew. “Got a call from Stan in California. The movie is starting to happen, I guess. He wants to send a couple of people out—writers or something—to do interviews. Made a point that he wants Lilli’s story. She won’t tell it. She doesn’t want it told at all.”

  Ellis had had Lilli tortured and raped. He’d been big on hiring people to rape women. And girls. Show’s fists clenched. “You can’t tell that story. That’s Lilli’s pain. You know that, Isaac. Tell me you’re not pushing her on that.”

  “No! Jesus Christ, of course not! Give me some goddamn credit. I don’t want what happened to her being turned into fucking entertainment! No—she lost her mind because I told him no without checking with her first. Even though we already talked about all this. Came right out of left field. I stood there like an asshole with my mouth hanging open. Once I got my sense back, I had to get out of there before I said something I’d regret.”

  Show laughed. Really laughed. “You are an asshole. That’s not left field, Isaac. When you make a decision about her with this movie, even to protect her, you’re taking her out of the loop.”

  Isaac glared at him. “She should fucking trust me. No way I’d hurt her.”

  “You should fucking keep her involved. She needs to have control over that.”

  Crossing his arms, Isaac was practically pouting. “Don’t want to talk about my shit anyway. I asked how you were doing.”

  Show laughed again. “Rather talk about your shit than mine. I like seeing you fall on your face.” Isaac flipped him off. Smiling, Show pulled the copy of Neuromancer out of his kutte. “You know this book?” He handed it over.

  “Yeah. Read this when I was maybe seventeen, eighteen. Pretty heady stuff. You taking up cyberpunk?”

  “Don’t know what that is. No—Daze was reading it. Found it open on her bedside table. Thought I’d finish it for her.”

  He was looking at the book in Isaac’s hands, but Show could feel him staring at him. He looked up and met his friend’s regard.

  “That’s good, Show. Daisy was a smart cookie. She’d have done something great with her life.”

  The ache in Show’s heart sharpened at that, but it didn’t undo him. “Yeah, she would’ve.” He took the book back. “Go home, Isaac. Love your old lady. Your beautiful baby girl. You’re a lucky son of a bitch. Don’t fuck it up.”

  ~oOo~

  A few days later, the Horde were in the Keep, sitting around their table. Their world had become much saner in the past year, since Ellis had been taken care of and they’d ended their involvement with crystal meth. They were back to running things legit, or mostly so. Acting as town protectors and de facto police force, taking a cut from the local businesses for their protection services. The local businesses were doing better than they had in years. The so-called “Shootout in Signal Bend” had resulted in the demise of Lawrence Ellis and two major gangs in St. Louis, and had turned the Night Horde into heroes and put Signal Bend on the map. Since then, and with the B&B giving people a place to stay, the antique shops and little restaurants had begun to boom. Hollywood had come sniffing around, and the story had been optioned by some big shot producer. The main reason for this club meeting was Hollywood news.

  After Isaac had briefed the table on town business—Mac Evans, the local realtor, had reported that there was a party interested in buying and reopening the shuttered town market—he leaned on the table and said, “I figure most of you were hoping, like I was, that nothing would come of the movie deal. But I got a call from Stan.” Stan was the producer who’d optioned the story. “He’s sending two writers and a photographer to Signal Bend. He talked a lot of jargon about what they would be doing. I fuckin’ hate the way he talks—it’s like another language half the damn time. But what it amounts to is this: they’re gonna do interviews, take pictures, get what they need to write a screenplay. We need to have a town meeting, get everybody on board about how to talk to these guys. The deal we worked gives us some control, and we need to use it.”

  Bart, the youngest patch and the club hacker, was grinning like a moron. He’d been excited about this movie thing from day one. Across the table, though, was C.J., the oldest patch. He’d been the only one to vote against signing a deal, and he was glowering at Isaac now. He could be a problem. Show turned to Isaac.

  Meeting his eyes, Isaac nodded and then turned to C.J. “You have a problem, Ceej?”

  “You know I do, Prez. You know what I think.”

  “Fair enough. We have a problem?”

  “Nope. Bullshit of you to ask. You know I ain’t gonna hurt the club. Or the town. Vote didn’t go my way. I’ll toe the line.”

  “Sorry, brother. Thanks.” Isaac leaned back in his seat at the head of the table. “Okay, last piece of business. Badger’s been prospecting a little more’n a year. Been a good addition, I’d say. Loyal. Tenacious. He took a bullet for us and came right back. I know he’s young, but he’s old enough. I’d like to put him to a vote. Thoughts?”

  Victor, who’d narrowly avoided a vote to take his patch last year, spoke up now. “We’re thin, thinner than we’ve been for a long while. He’s a good kid. Quiet, but tough. I think he’s ready.”

  C.J. nodded. “I thought he was a pussy when he came in, but he ain’t. Don’t seem like he’s ever gonna be at the front of the line, but he don’t back down. I want to hear from his sponsor, though.”

  Isaac turned to his Sergeant at Arms. “Len? Your boy ready?”

  Len nodded, his face serious. “He’s ready. He’s not soft. Stronger than he looks. Like an ant. Damn, that would’ve been a great name. Could’ve tormented him with that forever.”

  At that, Show added his voice. “Badger’s not bad enough?” The kid’s given name was Justin. Len had started calling him Badger because acne had made his face look striped. That acne was clearing up, though.

  “What? Badgers are fierce!” The table laughed.

  Isaac called the vote. Unanimous. Justin “Badger” Ness would sit in the eighth chair at the Horde’s table.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Shannon smiled as Keith came up onto the porch, carrying his overnight suitcase. He was really handsome, in the salon-styled, thousand-dollar-suit way. The way she’d preferred her men, so it was odd to think of his looks with that kind of qualifier. It was also odd to think of her preference for men like him in the past tense. But she shoved all that aside and just appreciated the picture coming to her.

  He was fit and tall—Shannon herself was tall, five-ten, and wouldn’t date men shorter than she was; it made her feel ungainly—with a golfer’s tan and a thick, perfectly styled sweep of dark blond hair. He was wearing a pair of khakis and a crisp white shirt, open at the throat. He looked good. Out of place, but good.

  “Hey, beautiful.” He grinned, his brown eyes crinkly and his teeth perfectly straight and white, and took her into his arms.

  “Hi. Missed you.” She turned her face up as he bent down to kiss her. He was a great kisser. Just the right amount of tongue, his lips soft, his face smooth.

  Pulling away a little, he murmured, “I’m glad you called.”

  So was Shannon. She took Keith’s hand and led him back to her apartment. Might as well start the weekend off with a bang.

  He pulled up short when she led him through the door into her sitting room. “This is it? You’re on call almost around the clock, and this is the extent of your residence? Shan! I hope you’re getting paid very well.”

  Shannon liked this little space. It was quiet and peaceful. She felt defensive, but she let it slide. Keith was a good guy. A really good g
uy. She didn’t love him, but she liked him a lot. In fact, there had been a time when she’d felt vexed by her inability to want more with him, and so had he. He was the complete package—good-looking, a successful attorney, a good person, with a decent sense of humor, who treated her well and wanted to commit. But there hadn’t been the spark she felt she needed before she’d take that step.

  He was also the only person outside of family who knew the story of her past, and he hadn’t judged her at all. He’d helped her, in fact. And when she needed to leave Tulsa because of it, he’d understood. This man was a catch. And she’d thrown him back.

  She needed to stop all this mental account-taking and enjoy the damn weekend. Sliding her arms around his trim waist, she said, “It’s good, Keith. I like it here. I like this little apartment a lot. And I’m being paid what I’m worth. I’m not on call this weekend, by the way. I’m all yours. They know not to call me, under penalty of death.” She’d hired a part-time desk manager to cover her days off. For the most part, she didn’t mind being on call around the clock, but every now and then she needed a weekend like this.

  “All mine, huh? I wonder what I’ll do with you, then?”

  “Bedroom’s that way.”

  He took her hand and pulled her in the direction she’d indicated. In her room, he kissed her again, and then stepped back and began to undress. Keith took care of his clothes and wanted to make sure they didn’t end up wadded on the floor. So they undressed themselves. Shannon got into bed while he was draping his shirt over the back of her armchair.

  He really had a nice body. Good definition, nice shoulders. He wasn’t massive, but he was strong and decently cut. Except for a closely trimmed area around his cock, he was hairless, too. He waxed—arms, legs, back, chest. One thing she had never liked was the stubbly, sandpaper feel of his skin right before a waxing appointment. Like being hugged by a giant piece of Velcro. She hoped he’d been recently.

  He slid under the covers and pulled her close, leaning over her with a rakish grin. His skin was silky smooth. “Nobody feels like you in my arms, beautiful. Are you still on the Pill?”

  She was, but she wasn’t an idiot. She’d left Tulsa four months ago. She was sure Keith had been getting plenty of action since. She hadn’t asked if he was seeing anyone special, but she knew he wouldn’t have come to see her if he were—he wasn’t that kind of guy. But when he wasn’t seeing anyone special, he got around. Rather than have that conversation in this moment, though, she said simply, “We need a condom.”

  His smile faltered a fraction. “Well, that’s a shame. But no problem.” He got back out of bed and opened his suitcase, pulling out a new box of a dozen. Waving it proudly, he declared, “I came prepared.”

  She laughed. He was cute. He took a strip out of the box and tore two off, winking as he did so. Then he slid back in next to her. “Now. Where were we?”

  “You’d just called me beautiful, as I recall.”

  “You are. So beautiful.”

  He moved his hand over her hip and down her thigh. It had been too long since she’d been touched like this, and Shannon sighed and closed her eyes.

  “Make me feel good,” she whispered.

  He bent down and kissed her breast. Shannon took a deep breath and tried to relax and open herself to his touch. Keith was a decent lover, sweet in bed. He took some time, paid her some attention. He wasn’t perfect—he was a little conventional, and he was terrible at oral and never quite sure what to do with her large breasts—but he was attentive, and that itself was a big plus. He had a decent cock, too. Average length, but good girth. He could get her off nicely, if Shannon relaxed and didn’t try to make it more than it was.

  Which seemed to be a problem now. She was restless. She’d gone four months without anything but a vibrator, and she wanted a powerful fuck. Keith was not that guy. He’d never been that guy. Damn, was she ever just going to be satisfied with what she had?

  He’d been caressing her, cooing at her, kissing her, and she’d been too much in her thoughts, judging him like he was some kind of contestant on a talent show, to even notice. He slid his hand between her thighs. She was dry—she felt it at the same time he did. He looked down at her, confused.

  “Shannon? Am I doing something wrong?”

  She pulled his head down and kissed him deeply, until he groaned and clutched her close, his hand leaving her mound to grab her hip.

  She pulled back then and said, “No, it’s just been awhile, I guess. I don’t know. But I’m turned on. I want this.”

  “Alrighty then.” He winked again and pushed down between her thighs. He was terrible at oral, but he loved to give it. At least she’d get wet, even if it was just his saliva.

  She faked an orgasm while he messily went down on her. She always faked these. He just liked it so much, she didn’t have the heart to tell him he was nowhere near her clit. When the performance was over, he slid up her body until they were face to face, his mouth and cheeks wet, his grin wide. “Damn, I missed that.”

  She smiled. “Me, too. You know what else I missed? Your fat cock.”

  That kind of talk had never been part of their deal, and he blinked in surprise. But then he smiled and pushed onto his knees to roll a condom on.

  She spread her legs wide and waited, finally feeling legitimately aroused and ready. She needed this. She needed to feel a man inside her and get her head straight about Showdown.

  So stupid to have thought about him in this particular moment. Stupid, stupid. For a brief second, she had the image of him between her thighs instead of Keith, and with it the thought that he would not be so sweet. As she was pushing the thought of Show’s size out of her head, Keith pushed into her.

  It was good. He felt good. She brought her legs up around his waist, and he grunted and sped up. He never kissed her when he was inside her like this. He closed his eyes and concentrated. But she wrapped her arms tightly around his torso and tucked her face against his neck. He smelled of expensive aftershave, expertly applied.

  She wasn’t going to come. She’d never had to fake an orgasm this way with Keith. And she needed to come—really needed it. But she couldn’t get out of her head. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, when she could feel his tension increasing and his control decreasing, she began another performance. As far as Keith knew, they came together, and he pulled out and dropped, exhausted, to her side, pulling the condom off and tying it off before dropping it to the floor.

  “That was amazing, Shannon. You really put me through my paces! God, I miss you.” He kissed her shoulder and trailed a finger around her nipple.

  Shannon turned a bright smile his way, keeping her disappointment to herself.

  ~oOo~

  They went to the Chop House for dinner—still the only restaurant in Signal Bend that offered anything like a decent dinner. The inn, being a bed and breakfast, offered a complete, elaborate breakfast and snacks throughout the day, ending with a nightcap around nine o’clock, but, excepting special events, no other meal service. In the town proper, still the only restaurant open after six in the evening was the Chop House. Hopefully that would change as the town revival really took root. No Place, the town bar, served food until eleven, but No Place—which everyone in town just called Tuck’s, for the owner, Tuck Olsen—was not exactly a date destination. Not for someone like Keith, at least. It was a rough, country bar.

  The Chop House wasn’t really Keith’s kind of place, either, but it was the best she had to offer, short of cooking for him herself. They had a decent meal. She noticed the other diners, most of them townspeople, noticing her and Keith, but no one did more than nod in her direction. She was one of them enough to garner their attention, but not yet one of them enough to interrupt their meal for a word with her. That was fine—she knew how towns like this worked, and she could be patient. For now, she enjoyed the thought that she might be grist for the gossip mill on Sunday morning after church.

  During dinner, Keith caught her up on
Tulsa news. She listened and responded, but she found she wasn’t terribly interested. In the few months since she’d left, she realized that she’d shaken off the city in which she’d lived her entire adult life and felt barely a twinge about it. Her Aunt Bev and Uncle Don, with whom she’d lived when she’d first moved there straight out of high school and until she’d graduated college, who’d helped her through the hardest part of her life, had moved to Arizona a few years ago, when Uncle Don’s health had gotten bad enough that his doctors said he needed to be somewhere warm and dry.

  Sitting across from Keith at the Chop House, Shannon realized that she’d lived in the same city for twenty years and had managed to make no real connections beyond her blood family. She’d had friends—lots of friends, with whom she still kept up online—and a very active social life. She’d had a good life, exciting and busy. But she’d moved away, and she missed almost none of it. She hadn’t really even missed Keith, and they’d dated exclusively for more than a year, only breaking up because of her move.

  What kind of person could do that? Live among people and not bond to them?

  “Shannon? You with me?”

  She shook herself back to the moment and smiled at the handsome man across from her, who was holding her hand. “Sorry. Tired, I guess.”

  “You’ve been off since I got here, Shan.” He paused, waiting for her to respond, but she didn’t have anything to say. After a beat or two, he went on, “I was saying that the investigator who was tailing you dropped off the radar a week or two after you left. If you haven’t had any strange shadows here, then I’d say he’s off the job, and you’re good.”

  She hadn’t noticed anything. She felt pretty comfortably anonymous here. “Good. Nothing odd here so far. Thank you for your help with all that. Really.”

  He laughed sadly. “Yeah. I helped myself right out of your life. Worked out great for me.” Leaning in and pulling her hand closer, he said, “You know I’d ask for more if you wanted that, right? You could come back to Tulsa, away from this sad excuse for a life, and I’d help you through all that stuff in your past. We could have a good life.”