by Lexy Timms
“Of course! I had to come.”
“That’s Gibs’ wife right there. Her name is Helen.” But before he could extricate Deirdre from his arm, another woman walked through the entrance.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Hi, Luke. How’s the leg?” Sheila wore a black skirt and matching blouse. She was dressed a hundred times more decent than Deirdre, except for the amount of buttons done up at the top of her blouse.
“It’s fine, Sheila.” Luke ignored Spider’s chuckle beside him. He motioned to both ladies. “Sheila, this is Deirdre.”
“Oh! I remember you from high school. Sheila Harmon, right? You were a couple years ahead of me.”
“Yes, but it’s Healey now.”
“Oh, you’re married.” Deirdre’s scowl brightened to a smile.
“Was.” Sheila studied the woman hanging onto Luke. Her eyes traveled up and down, as if assessing an enemy.
“Oh.” Deirdre probably had a hundred different ways to say that word. She had that look in her eye that Luke knew well. The woman was about to explode. “What’s up with your leg, Luke?” The words slid out of Deirdre’s mouth like a snake hissing a warning.
“Just a little accident,” said Sheila brightly, concluding that Deirdre was not part of Luke’s recent life. “I helped him with his dressings.” Sheila spoke in a seductive tone that colored the meaning of the words.
Luke swallowed. The thought crossed his mind that he needn’t worry about gang violence if he didn’t make it out of the funeral home alive. He glanced at Helen, hoping she couldn’t hear this ridiculous conversation going on. A movement by the door caught his attention and he gasped.
His reaction had Spider looking over and chuckling. “Another one?”
At the entrance stood Emily, dressed in a very sensible dark two-piece suit. The look on her face as her eyes moved toward him, crushed him. Taking a moment to gather herself, she straightened and raised her chin.
She solemnly walked past him, both ladies beside him watching her with their mouths hanging open. Emily knelt in front of Gibs’ coffin and crossed herself before bending her head in prayer. After a minute, she made the sign of the cross again and stood to talk to Helen. She laid an envelope down on a table set up next to the coffin, then moved towards Gibs’ family. She spoke quietly with Helen, gave her a hug and then moved down the line of relatives expressing her condolences. She was a class act – proper, classy and sophisticated. Luke felt a swell of pride, even though he was furious with her for coming. She should have stayed away, kept herself safe.
“Hey,” said Deirdre, using a finger to pull Luke’s head back toward her. “Just what’s going on here?”
CHAPTER SIX
Calling Hours (Emily)
Emily was never as nervous as when she pulled in the parking lot of the funeral home. Her stomach fluttered, and she felt the annoying queasy feeling that seemed to becoming part of her daily routine. But if Luke was anywhere, he’d be here.
She wasn’t fooling herself by trying to conjure the lie that she was here to honor the man she saw shot in front of her. That was the valid reason for being here. However, the truth was she wanted to see Luke and force him to see her.
She wanted answers.
It may very well be true that Luke thought he wasn’t good enough for her. He always had an edge of self-deprecation, though he didn’t share that with the world. She didn’t care. Still, knowing him since high school, she sensed there was something behind that tough-man facade that haunted him. He had hinted at it himself:
“I did get into trouble. It was bad. I thought I got into trouble because after you left I had nothing to live for. But, looking at it now, I’d have done it whether you were there or not.”
Emily swallowed hard and screwed up her courage to walk the distance to the doors of the funeral home. Once inside, she found the showing room and stepped through the wide entrance and then stopped short.
Ahead of her stood Luke, looking damnably sexy in a dark suit. That part caught her breath, but the two women overdressed in ridiculously sexy outfits for a funeral standing on either side of him burned anger into her blood. One of them clung to his arm. The other was Sheila Harmon.
Doing a slow burn, she walked past him, arching an eyebrow at him briefly, then made her way to Gibs’ coffin. She looked at the man in the stillness and chill of death. Gibs only seemed to be asleep, but she knew he would never wake. She sunk to her knees and said a prayer for him, hoping that his stay in purgatory would be short and he could join his Father in heaven soon.
A lifelong Catholic, Emily knew all souls not condemned to hell spent some time in purgatory atoning for their earthly sins. She rose and placed the Mass card she got from Father Peters this morning on the table for the sympathy cards. Sometime in the next month, Father Peters would dedicate a mass for Gibs’ soul, to help ease his entrance into heaven. Father Peters was kind, knowing of Emily’s recent troubles, and wouldn’t take a large donation for the mass, for which Emily was grateful. It was a small thing, but something Emily felt she should do. While she was at the church, she also lit a candle for Gibs and said a prayer for him.
She also lit a candle for her and Luke and instead of the usual Hail Mary or Our Father, put her prayer in her own words.
Heavenly Father,
I know in your wisdom you brought Luke and me together, but it seems everyone wants to keep us apart. Help me find a way to understand what You want for us. Amen.
Emily was amazed at the grace which Helen handled these calling hours. The woman greeted each person and hugged them, thanking them for coming. Emily knew if it were her, she’d be a puddle of tears throughout the whole affair.
“Thank you for coming.” Helen’s words were automatic until she realized who she was speaking to. Her eyes grew big and filled with tears that didn’t fall. “Emily.” Helen tried to smile.
“I’m so sorry,” Emily whispered, feeling tears in her eyes again.
“You were there,” Helen whispered.
“Yes,” Emily mouthed, barely able to speak now. She nodded.
Helen leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Tell me it was quick. Tell me he felt no pain.”
Emily’s shoulders shook. She tried to block out the images in her head but they refused to leave. “He saved Luke’s life,” she choked out. She wiped her eyes, embarrassed by the tears and her voice shaking.
Helen shot a quick look at Luke, then back at Emily. She put her hands on Emily’s arms. “Frank looked hard and tough, but inside he was entirely unselfish. That’s why I love…” She bit her lip. “That’s why I loved him.”
“You were lucky to have each other.” Emily’s tears now slid like a river down her cheeks.
“Here,” said Helen, taking some tissue from a box on the floor by her chair. “The funeral home put out a generous supply.” She handed a Kleenex to Emily then dabbed at her own eyes. “Please drop by the house after the funeral. I’d like to speak with you.”
Emily hesitated, unsure if she could ever go by that street again.
Helen squeezed her arm. “Please?”
“Yes, of course.” Emily wiped her eyes. “I will. Thank you.” She moved to the next relative, then the next, offering her condolences. With the juggernaut of her emotions hitting her at once, it felt like she was moving in slow motion as she spoke to each one. She struggled with her tears and managed to gain control and contain them, though her heart felt like it would burst. She felt so guilty. She should be thinking about Helen and what she was going through, not about the silly boy behind her.
She refused to turn her head and look at Luke. She felt he was watching her but she made herself ignore him. The full possibility that she lost Luke forever hit her like an arrow piercing her heart. Helen’s grief over losing her husband, Luke standing there with two women flanking him, drove home the point he might be beyond recovering.
She couldn’t stand the thought. The anger that had boiled not long ago returned. She
blinked several times. Women were crazy–she was one of them. They could blow through emotions faster than the wind blew a sail. She forced air through her nose and let the anger replace the sadness.
Luke was hers. That was all there was to it.
When she reached the end of the receiving line, she brought her eyes to Luke. The woman she didn’t recognize had her fingers on Luke’s jaw. She looked familiar, but Emily couldn’t remember who she was. Darn thing about small towns. Everyone knew everybody and everyone looked slightly familiar. Didn’t matter, she’d had enough.
That’s it! Emily marched over to Luke and the two women.
“Emily!” Sheila smiled a little too brightly. “It’s good to see you. Well, not under the circumstances, but still good to see you.”
“Whatever,” hissed Emily. A fire had lit under her and she had no intention of playing the good girl now. Where did it get her? Nowhere! “Luke, I need to speak to you. Privately.” She kept her tone even, but made it clear she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Excuse me.” Luke plucked Deirdre’s arm off his. He smiled weakly at a laughing Spider and followed Emily.
She marched out of the room, looking around for somewhere private to talk. A staircase leading to a second floor barred by a chain strung between the wall and banister. She unhooked the chain and handed the end to Luke.
“Emily,” he said.
She shook her head and crooked it to point up the stairs. Luke sighed and followed her, replacing the chain as he stepped on the stairs.
Silent, Emily hurried up, knowing Luke was following at a slower pace behind her. Tough shit! He wants to act like a dog with his tail between his legs, let him! All the stress and terror of the past few days—screw that—from the past few weeks turned into anger, all pointed at Luke.
At the top of the stairs was a long hallway with doors. Emily tried each handle until she found one that was unlocked. She stepped inside. It was an office with a large antique oak desk to the right and a large full bookcase behind it. A few other chairs spread across the room.
Luke followed her in with a cold look on his face. He shut the door behind him quietly. “What do you want, Emily?” His face was unreadable.
“You need to explain this.” She pulled Luke’s letter from her pocket.
He slipped his hands in his pockets. “There isn’t anything to tell. I meant what I wrote.”
Emily’s lip quivered, and she cursed herself for coming close to losing it again. No. Not after everything they shared. Her anger rose and pushed out the next words she spoke. “No.” She lifted her chin stubbornly. “I don’t believe a word of it.”
Luke sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t. That's why I sent the letter, to avoid a scene like this.” He turned to open the door.
No! He was not getting away that easy. She wasn’t going to let him do this to her. “Wait!”
He turned back, his face a mirage of emotions. He pressed his lips together before his shoulders dropped. He looked incredibly handsome and vulnerable. It was a side of him she had never seen. “This isn’t going to do us any good,” he said quietly. He blinked and pressed his emotions away before straightening.
Emily stepped forward and put her hand on his arm. “Luke, don’t do this. I love you.”
His eyes flashed. Whatever vulnerability was there a moment ago disappeared. Emily almost drew back from the anger she saw replacing it.
“Grow up, Emily. We had some fun. That’s all. A few good fucks.” He turned to leave.
She grabbed the fabric of his suit and pulled hard, forcing him to face her. “No!” She stared at him, her eyes going back and forth over his. “That’s not all it was. Bull shit! Don’t lie to me, Luke. That letter you sent me was one damned lie after another.”
Luke swallowed, and she knew everything she said was true.
They stood staring at each other, both of them losing their breath. Emily threw her arms around him, crushing her lips hard against his. It felt so good to feel his hard muscles against her body that she pressed her body tighter against his, as her tongue fought its way inside his mouth.
He stood stiffly against her for a moment before he gave up and slipped his fingers into her hair and pulled her hard against him. His tongue fought hers with a need of desire she had never felt from him before. It only strengthened her need to have him. Both gasped as their breathing sped up.
She put her hands everywhere she could, running them up his chest, slipping her hands inside his jacket then squeezing and rubbing his nipples. She pushed her hands into the hard muscles of his back along his spine, gaining a small moan from Luke. Reaching his ass she squeezed the round globes in her hands and he moaned against her mouth again.
His erection pressed hard against his pants. She could feel it as her hips rotated with their own rhythm against him. She reached down and stroked the rigid length.
“Dammit, Emily,” he whispered.
“Fuck me,” she begged in his ear. “Fuck me now. Hard.”
Instantly his hands cupped her bottom, and he pulled her against him, grinding himself between her legs. He walked forward, pushing her back against the desk, his hands pushing her skirt up around her hips. He reached for her and began stroking her through the tight sheath of her pantyhose, pressing his fingers into her.
She felt herself moisten and the rubbing of his fingers combined with her wetness trapped in the pantyhose sent sparks through her. She rocked herself against his hand. “Oh yes,” she said in a breathy whisper. “That feels so good.”
He pulled away and with a wicked gleam in his eye, he yanked the pantyhose down her legs, along with her lacy panties. He grabbed her bare ass and lifted her hips high. In one motion he was kneeling on the desk and buried his face between her legs, his tongue an unrelenting tool of pleasure as it licked every inch of flesh it could find.
With her pantyhose still on her calves, she could barely move. The feeling of restraint, of being at the mercy of whatever he wanted, excited Emily more than she’d ever been in her life.
His tongue and lips finally settled on her nub, sucking to create a vacuum and licking the over-sensitive spot until she clenched and cried out as the erotic sensation burst apart, sending electricity flying through her body and white heat throbbing through her.
Her head was on the hard table and through her ragged gasps she heard him unzipping his pants. Lying there in the aftermath of her orgasm she couldn’t move. He ripped off one leg of the pantyhose and threw her legs around his hips. He entered her with one swift push that felt like it could burst her in half. Luke gripped her hips hard, pressing his fingers into her flesh so tightly she felt pain. He pounded against her, into her furthest reaches and she cried out with every thrust. At each thundering jab of his rock hard cock, Luke pushed her farther into pleasure. It flooded every cell of her body. Her back arched, every muscle clenched and her heart hammering in her chest as a second orgasm ripped apart her body and mind.
She heard Luke’s rapid breaths as he thrust into her again and again, and then his gasp as he released deep inside her, every muscle shaking. After a few more strokes, he stood there, holding himself inside her as his breathing slowed.
He stepped back suddenly and pulled out of her. It left her with a sudden emptiness she didn’t want to feel. Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, he bent down and pulled his pants back on like what they had just done meant nothing.
He gave her a cold look as she lay open and vulnerable before him.
“How was that, Emily-dear?” He smiled at her, the mocking in his eyes more than she could take. “Is that what you believe love feels like?”
She stared at him, her body still shaking with pleasure. A shiver ran down her spine as he stared at her and her body’s reaction, not sure what to do with the pleasure and pain mixing together.
“No, that was pure, unadulterated selfishness. Yes, I fucking want you. I probably always will. But never for a moment mistake it for love.”
“Luke?” she whispered, not sure what to say. His words hurt her more than watching the bullets rip through Gibs’ body.
“You’re a great fuck, Em.” He shrugged before he turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him, leaving her totally alone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Club Business
During the next three months the tensions with the Rojos skyrocketed. Nothing major happened, but each time the two groups intersected at the Red Bull, or anywhere else, things got tense. Luke did his best to find dirt to get himself out from under the undercover police’s noses, but he had nothing to report. At least his ass was still connected to his body and Emily was safe. He hadn’t heard from her, not that he expected to. Her safety would have to be enough, though his dreams at night told him he wanted more.
That Friday night, at the Red Bull, Luke wanted to forget thinking about Emily for one night. A group of Westfield Rojos stared him and the Hades’ Spawn members down. The quiet evening Luke anticipated at the Red Bull threatened to ignite into a firestorm.
“Those fuckers,” said Aces as he, Luke, Dagger, Wolf and a couple of the new brothers hung at the bar. “They’re looking for a beat down.”
“It’s nothing, Aces,” said Luke, hoping to defuse the situation.
“They’re disrespecting us.”
“The Red Bull is neutral ground, man. Rocco doesn’t tolerate any violence.”
Aces made a noise of disgust. “They’ll deserve what they get.”
Luke put his hand on Kinney’s arm, which drew a warning look from the man. Fortunately, a couple of distractions walked into the bar. Luke didn’t who know the women were, but they were just the sort that Kinney found attractive. The girls had their hair teased high and wore too much make-up. Luke waved the women over.
They sauntered toward the table with an over-attempted sexy sway to their hips. A blonde twirled a tendril of hair, giving Luke an appraising look. At Luke’s wave Kinney glanced over his shoulder.
