by Never, M.
“Why? Are you going to cook?” he pokes fun at me.
“I can make peanut butter and jelly,” I offer.
“Naked?” He raises his eyebrows.
“If you’d like,” I purr.
“I’d like.”
His stomach rumbles again. “All right, I’m going,” I scold to his abdomen.
I climb out of bed, pull my hair up into a bun, and traipse into the kitchen butt naked, as requested.
I pull two plates out of the cabinet, a knife and spoon out of the cutlery drawer, and go on a hunt for the peanut butter. I find it in the pantry. Organic, of course. The jelly I swipe from the fridge as I make my way back to the island. Baz’s kitchen isn’t big, and I paid enough attention when he cooked to become familiar with my surroundings.
I place two pieces of bread on each plate and swipe some peanut butter on one side of each. Baz makes a naked appearance just as I’m about to add the low sugar, organic strawberry jelly. He spies over my shoulder with his hands resting on my hips as I smear the jelly on top of the peanut butter.
“That might just be the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich I’ve ever eaten.” He picks up the knife and sucks off the remnants by pulling the sharp edge through his lips. I don’t know why, but that just totally turned me on. The action was just so raw and masculine.
“You haven’t even taken a bite. How could you have already decided that?” I hand him a plate.
“Because you made it.” He smacks my ass before he walks away. I look up at the ceiling and smirk.
Baz grabs two glasses and the carton of milk from the fridge before he sits down at the table. I cut my sandwich into fours and then join him.
“Um, excuse me.” He glares, insulted.
“What?”
“You, sit here.” He points to his lap.
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Since now.” He snatches my wrist and pulls me down on top of him.
“You’re bossy when you eat peanut butter and jelly.” I pick up half of his sandwich and feed it to him.
“I get hangry.” He takes a huge bite.
“So I see.” I suck some jelly off the corner of his mouth.
“Quit that. You know what will happen.”
“I do?” I play stupid.
“Yes. I’ll end up licking peanut butter off your pussy.”
My eyes flash. “Is there something wrong with that?” I feed him another bite. He chews and swallows before he answers.
“No. But I want to bury my face between your legs at the spring.”
“We can always just bring the peanut butter with us.” I pick off a piece of bread from my sandwich and suck it from my fingers.
“I like the way you think.” He kisses me ardently. “Stevie.” Baz suddenly clears his throat. “While we’re out, maybe you should do something with your hotel room.”
“My hotel room?”
“Yeah.” The subject seems to make him uncomfortable. “You’re wasting money not staying there. I thought maybe you could check out and, I dunno know, just stay here.” He looks down and circles his finger around the edge of his plate.
“You want me to stay with you?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been here for three days. I didn’t want to bring it up because I didn’t want to give you a reason to leave. But I don’t think we can avoid talking about the inevitable.”
My lips curl into a smile on their own accord as I decide right then and there I need to tell Baz everything. Who I am and why I’m here. I’ll explain strategically, and hopefully he won’t freak out. I’ll figure out who wants him dead and why. And then instead of killing him, I’ll kill them.
“Okay,” I agree. My chest lights up from my decision. “I’ll stay.” I lift his chin so he looks up at me. “But we have a lot to talk about.”
Baz nods. “We do.” There’s something swimming in his eyes that says he wants to confide in me, too.
We finish eating then shower and dress.
I’ve never felt happier or more scared. This conversation with Baz is going to be painful. I fiddle with my gold ring as I run through twenty different scenarios in my mind. How to begin, how to explain. How to rebound when the conversation takes a turn for the worse.
My phone rings in my backpack, startling me out of my thoughts.
“Shit.” I drop the bag on the kitchen table and pull out the phone. G flashes on the screen. I debate answering it, but I know Regina is the one person who can give me the answers I need.
I inhale a breath and swipe right. “Hello.”
“Where the fuck are you?” Regina chomps through the phone.
I turn to see if Baz has come out of the bedroom. I hear him whistling “I Am the Highway” completely out of sight, so I slip out the front door. He’ll be able to hear her loud mouth a mile away.
“I’m still in Colorado.”
“What the fuck is taking so long? You should have been back days ago.”
I pace the small front porch, chewing a nail.
“There were some complications,” I vaguely explain.
“What kind of complications?” Her tone is venomous.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Yeah, right. I am in so over my head I am looking up into nothing but black water.
“Is it done, at least?”
I rip the tip of my nail right off with my teeth as I answer. “No.”
“Fuck! Stevie!” she shouts. “Why the fuck not?”
“I told you, there were complications,” I reiterate.
“Stevie, I told you not to fuck this job up. I warned you—”
“Yes, I remember, I was there,” I toss out flatly, peeking into the house on the lookout for Baz. “Who wants him gone?” I get right down to business.
“What the fuck does it matter?”
“Because I want to know.”
“You don’t need to know. What you need to do is put a bullet in his fucking head and come home,” she manages to snap, sneer, and order all at once. “That’s your job. That is what you are there to do. I don’t want a pissed-off client. And he will be pissed off. Do you hear me, Stevie? You know what that means.”
Yeah, yeah. Threats upon threats upon threats upon threats. My head will be served up on a silver platter if I fail. Yada, yada. I’m familiar with the consequences.
“Who is he?” I press again, and I literally feel Regina’s hostility vibrate through the phone.
“It doesn’t fucking matter.” She speaks slowly, threateningly.
Fuck, this is getting me nowhere. Stubborn bitch is never going to tell me. I have to change up my strategy. If I want to find out who wants Baz dead, I am going to have to go back east and find out myself. I hope he won’t mind pretending to be dead for just a little while.
“Fine. I’ll be home soon. I’ll call you from the plane.”
“The clock is ticking, Stevie.” I roll my eyes. “Oh. One more thing. Your stupid fucking OB got our phone numbers mixed up again. You’re overdue for your BC shot. So, I suggest you keep your legs closed while you’re gone.” Click.
I petrify right where I stand as my stomach drops. Motherfuckingshit.
I inhale a deep, cleansing breath, drawing on the purity of the Colorado air. One shit show at a time.
Right now, I have to deal with Baz. As I step back inside the house, I come to find Baz standing at the table, my bag wide open, the .22 in one hand and the silencer in the other.
I pause as I inspect the puzzled look on his face, my heartbeat intensifying.
“Baz?” I say his name calmly, non-threateningly. This is not the way I envisioned this happening. I was hoping to ease into the fact that I’m packing.
Baz flicks his eyes up at me as I take a step toward him, the floor creaking below my feet. The way he looks at me is chilling, my blood freezing right in my veins.
“Did you come here to kill me, Stevie?” He doesn’t pull any punches. Gotta respect him for that.
“Baz, please just put the gun down and let me explain.” I pray he can hear the sincerity in my voice. His jaw ticks as he lifts his hand and opens fire. I take cover, diving behind the kitchen island as he shoots up his entire house.
“Baz! Stop!” I curl into a ball as glass shatters all around me. Fuck. “I thought you didn’t like violence!” I yell over the flying rounds.
“I don’t! But I’m not opposed to using it when someone is trying to kill me!”
The chamber suddenly clicks. He’s out.
“I don’t want to kill you!” Anymore.
“Nice fucking try. You’ve been lying since the moment I met you!” He sounds pissed. Who can blame him?
I glance up at the counter as I hear the floor creak. A few feet away sits a set of kitchen knives and Baz’s keys.
I could end this right now. All it would take is a few fast moves, and I could send a paring knife flying into Baz’s heart. He would never see it coming. It would be over lightning quick.
I screw my eyes shut, sick from the thought. I need to make a life-altering decision, and I need to make it right now. The floor squeaks again, and I dart out from behind the island, Baz in my peripheral vision. I grab the keys then fly out the front door.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I hop into the truck and speed away, leaving Baz, and any chance we had, behind.
SHIT UP TO my eyeballs does not even begin to describe the situation I’m in.
I stand in front of Regina’s office door rocking back and forth on my heels. I’m procrastinating.
She verbally castrated me when I told her the job was a fail. I knew this moment was coming. The minute I decided I wasn’t going to kill Baz, I knew I was going to have to face the music eventually. And I knew the tune was going to be the death march.
I finally knock on the door. Like Baz said, you can’t avoid talking about the inevitable.
“Come in.” Her displeasure is palpable.
I walk inside to find her sitting behind her desk. It’s funny, before Benny died, Regina couldn’t care less about family business, and now here she is, running her part like a pro.
“Well, she returns,” Regina sneers.
I stroll right up to the edge of the antique cherrywood desk and cross my arms. “What? No late afternoon snack?” I allude to the fact there’s no boy toy in the room.
“Don’t get smart, Stevie. I’m in a world of shit, which means so are you.”
“I’ll find him—”
Regina slams her hands on her desk.
“No, you won’t! He’s in the goddamn wind! It took us six months to find him last time. God knows how long it will take now!”
I’m totally taken aback. I’ve never seen Regina so upset about anything except shoes before.
“Who is he? Why is he so important?” I try to pry some information out of her.
“Why do you keep asking that?” she snaps. “Did something happen out there I should know about?” She’s suspicious.
“No,” I scoff, trying desperately not to look guilty. “But maybe if I know something about him, I could figure out how to get close to him again.”
“You had your chance, Stevie. You failed.” She clears her throat uncomfortably, light beads of sweat appearing like dewdrops on her forehead.
“G, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Her demeanor suddenly changes. “I wish things could be different, Stevie, I really do.” She stands with a strange look in her eyes.
“Different?” I glance behind me just in case Kruger is trying to sneak up behind me. When I look back at Regina, she’s pointing a gun at me. Sneaky bitch. I didn’t think she even knew what a firearm was. I smile. Does she think she’s scaring me right now?
“You gonna shoot me yourself, G?” I mock her. “You’ll get all dirty from the blood spatter.” The gun trembles in her hand, and before she can even think, I reach out and swipe it, turning the barrel on her.
The first time Benny introduced me to a gun, he held it up to my head and pulled the trigger. I won’t lie. I peed in my pants like a little bitch. It wasn’t loaded, of course, but I didn’t know that. Fear is a weakness, Stevie. Don’t let it control you, don’t be afraid of pain, and don’t be afraid to die. Fear will ruin you.
I’m not afraid to die. Not at Regina’s hand or anyone else’s. What I am afraid of? Someone else killing Baz and not being merciful about it.
“Tell me who he is, G.”
Regina stands before me in her pretty pink, ruffly suit, clearly terrified. Her bark has always been worse than her bite.
“He’s a witness who needs to go away.”
“There. Was that so hard? Who wants him dead?” I go on.
She shakes her head immediately. “I can’t tell you that, Stevie, I’m sorry. All I can say is it’s someone very important.”
Jesus, that could be anyone. Crime boss, politician, celebrity. We cater to all kinds.
If Regina were anyone else, I would beat the shit out of her with the butt of the gun until she told me the truth, but one scream out of her mouth and this room will flood with killer bodyguards faster than the sand from a smashed hourglass.
I stalk around the desk and crowd Regina up against the wall. She clearly trembles as I press the pussy pistol to her throat. “I would think twice before pulling a gun on me again,” I threaten. “Unlike you, I’m not afraid to pull the trigger.”
“Stevie,” she forces out a fearful warning. I hear her loud and clear. I just hope she hears me, too.
I lower the gun, and she visibly sags. I step back and drop the silver revolver on her desk before I storm out of the room without another word.
AUDIOSLAVE CROONS THROUGH the speaker for the ten millionth time.
It’s been three months since I ran out on Baz. Since I turned my back and went on with my life. I wanted to look for him. But I didn’t. After I walked out of Regina’s office, I decided it was best if I just let him go. It may have been the worst decision I’ve ever made, but I’ll never forget that hurt, betrayed look in his gorgeous green eyes as he stood there holding my gun. How could he ever forgive me? How could he ever trust me again? He was right. I lied to him from the minute I met him. Maybe not about my name, but definitely about everything else.
As good as we were together, we are better off apart. Which, if I’m honest, is devastating. But that’s life. My fucked-up life.
My stomach rolls again as I stand in front of the mirror finishing up my makeup. I’ve been nauseous for days and barely surviving on crackers and ginger ale.
“¡Dios mío!” I hear Claudia before I see her. “This song again?” She leans on the doorframe of the bathroom and rolls her eyes. Okay, so maybe I’m a little obsessed. But this song is all I have left of Baz.
“You can turn it off if you want.”
Her expression softens. I hate it when she looks at me like that. “I guess if you are going to pine over a lost love, today would be the day.” Valentine’s Day. Ick. “I brought you presents. More ginger ale and this?” She pulls out a small, neatly folded paper bag from her little messenger purse that’s draped across the front of her body. I take it curiously. When I look inside the bag, I swear all the blood drains from my face.
“A pregnancy test?”
“Don’t act surprised, chiquitina. This is just to validate what we already both know.”
I stare at Claudia stoically. She knows everything. Every small, minute, glorious, arousing, heart-aching detail.
And as soon as I started to get sick, suspicions rose.
I place my hand on my sour stomach.
“Have you given any thought about what you’ll do?” she asks supportively.
I shrug unsurely.
“An abortion?” she offers delicately.
“No,” I immediately contest. “I want it. I’ll keep it.”
Her eyebrows furrow worriedly. She knows who I am. What my life is like.
“How would that work?”
&n
bsp; “I don’t know. I’d have to figure it out. Maybe I’ll run. Start over somewhere. I just know I won’t get rid of it.”
Claudia steps into the bathroom and throws her arms around me. I hug her tightly. She’s my only friend, and I love her more than words could ever express.
“My brother could help you. He knows people,” she hints. “He could get you a new identity.”
“Claudia, no.” I push her back so I can look at her face. “I would never ask you to do that. I would never put you in that position.” I know how tumultuous her relationship is with her criminal brothers. I know being mixed up with them is what got her hooked on drugs and nearly ruined her whole life. No way. I can handle this myself.
There’s a hard bang on the front door, and we both startle.
“Shit, that’s my ride. Listen, stay right here, out of sight. Wait ten minutes before you leave.”
She nods. No one in my other life knows about Claudia, and I plan to keep it that way.
I give her one more quick hug, grab my coat and purse off my bed, and hurry to open the front door. Right before I do, I stuff the pregnancy test into my clutch. I swing the door open to a man who looks like a secret service agent. Tall, indifferent, dark suit impeccably pressed. He’s one of Regina’s henchman, and he’s here to escort me to some stupid party in the city she demanded I be at.
We don’t say a word to each other, just walk down the hall to the elevator and out to the awaiting car.
Bile rises in my throat as we drive, the movement of the car making me sick. I wish I had some ginger ale, or a bucket, or sleeping pills. Anything to ease my encumbering ailment.
Ugh . . . this is going to be a long fucking night.
It’s cold and snowy in the city, but the inside of the beautifully decorated room is warm with candlelight, crystal accents, and red roses. I suppose if one was celebrating Valentine’s Day, this is the ideal set up.
I watch Regina flutter around the room like she owns it. I’ll give it to the woman, she knows how to work a crowd. And she’s a showstopper in her long, sparkly champagne dress that makes her look like a movie star. Sometimes I think she missed her calling. A dramatic bitch like her belongs in Hollywood.
I catch sight of my reflection in the window, a translucent silhouette of my flowy blonde hair and floor-length red dress with provocative slit up the side. To the unknowing eye, I’m just another guest at the party. But for Regina, I’m extra muscle. She likes to bring along a quiet entourage when she steps out in public. Bedsides Kruger looking menacingly out of place in the corner, her driver and mine are both in attendance and both packing heat.
