by JJ Knight
His movements are faster, harder. I can barely think.
“Promise,” he says.
“I will. I do.”
He moves between my thighs, and without even adjusting the pressure of his hand, plunges deep into me. I cry out loudly enough for the sound to echo off the walls.
Parker works hard and fast. His free hand goes beneath me, lifting me up to him.
Every stroke is like a heat wave, flashing through me. For a little while, I’m just lost in it, and the tension abates. I am nothing but a reaction to what he does to me, shifting in rhythm with his movements.
He removes his hand for just a moment, and the loss of that sensation makes me whimper. He smiles and brings it back. The tension whips back into place, hard and tight and demanding. The spiral makes its way back up my body, muscles tightening around him.
When I start to convulse, the waves coursing around him, he lets go. The warmth floods through me, the throbbing of him inside me playing against the pulsations of mine.
I lose my sense of reality, drifting without gravity or direction. I only feel Parker’s strong arm still lifting me, and the hardness of his thighs pressed against mine.
He pulls his hand away and braces over me on the bed. Slowly he lowers me to the sheets. In the darkest corners of the room, I see a shower of white sparks, like I’ve squeezed my eyes too tightly and have only just opened them again.
There is nothing like this. Nothing.
What risks should someone take for this? What risks should I take?
Parker closes his arms around me and lifts my head to his chest. I let him hold me. I would take any chance on myself for him. I would sacrifice anything.
But I’m not the only person whose life is in Parker’s hands.
There’s Lily.
Now it’s my turn for emotion to crash through me. I try to hold it in, but it grows too big to contain and suddenly my chest heaves with the suppressed sob. “They threatened Lily,” I finally say, the words I have to say.
Parker goes completely and utterly still. “They did what?”
“They said I had to break up with you or they would come for her.”
Every muscle in his body tenses with the strength of steel.
He pulls away from me. “This ends now.” He picks up his phone.
I sit up. “What are you going to do? If you hurt him, if you do anything drastic, your life is over. Jail time. All of it.”
“I don’t have to,” he says, his voice very hard. He stands up and heads out of the room.
I jump from the bed to follow. “What are you going to do?” I ask.
“What I should have done before now,” he says. He sounds so cold and resolute that fear spikes through me.
He picks up his phone. He taps out a message, then hits send with more force than needed.
“Who was that?” I scramble for my clothes, feeling an urgent need to be dressed and ready.
Parker sits back on the sofa, naked, angry, and without any trace of regret. “Jax.”
The silk-shirt man from the warehouse. The one who came for me. “What did you tell him?”
He leans forward and lets his phone skid across the coffee table. When it stops near the edge, I pick it up. Parker has only typed two words.
Finish this.
Chapter 13: Parker
I know I should be the hero here. I should track down Striker and kill him with my bare hands.
Or I should work the system. Have him arrested for his threats. Let him do jail time.
But neither of those things appear to be an option.
Maddie dashes around, throwing on her clothes. I feel detached from her for the moment. I’ve had to invoke Jax and his crew to clean up my mess. I don’t like it. I destroyed Striker in Vegas in a street fight. And four of his fighter friends. But they just keep coming, like a zombie horde.
And now they’ve threatened my daughter.
“Where are you going?” I ask Maddie.
“To my mom’s. I have to be with Lily.”
I stand up. “I’ll come with you.”
She holds up her hand. “No. You just sent that message. You stay away from us.”
“You could be in danger.”
“Then call Colt. Have him send someone. You stay away.”
Shit. I know she’s right.
“When this is over, I’m coming for you,” I say.
She pulls on her jeans. “Is this ever really going to be over?”
“One way or another. We can’t live like this.” I walk over to the kitchen counter, where the ring box has sat since I got back. I pick it up.
Maddie is dressed and rushing for the door. But when she sees what I’m holding, she stops dead.
I hold it out to her. “You need to take this now,” I say. “It’s time.”
She shakes her head. “Not right now. We can talk about it when we’re clear of all this mess with Striker.”
I drop it back to the counter and strike the tiles with my fist. I’m angry about it. It’s not what I want. But Maddie’s probably right.
“Will you call Colt?” she asks.
“I’ll do it now.”
“Good.” She comes over to me and covers my fist with her hand. “I’ll let you know when I’m home.”
“Let me take you.”
“No. You’ve started something. I don’t want to be around you until we know it’s safe.” She lets go of my hand. “These are my streets. Where I grew up. It’s nothing. I’ll text you immediately when I get there.”
I stare at the tiles on the counter. “All right.”
Before I can say anything else, she has already slipped out the door.
I smash my palms against the ledge. I want to destroy something. And I want this man dead. But it’s not right to want that. I don’t know how to immobilize him. How to get him out of the picture. Jax seems resourceful. Maybe he will know a way.
My phone buzzes. I walk over to it, not sure if I want to even read the message.
It’s from Jax.
Consider it done.
Nothing else. No questions asked. No need for justification. Hell, maybe he already knows. Maybe he knew everything all along. I don’t know who those people are or what they do. But Colt trusts them. I’ll have to.
I send a quick note to Colt explaining that Lily was threatened and that I asked Jax to intervene. That Maddie didn’t want me and could he send someone over to her house. I forward her address, feeling a pinch of concern that maybe someone is watching and will know where she is now. I add one more message.
Hurry.
I feel absolutely useless.
I walk around, picking up clothes, getting re-dressed. I realize Maddie left the box with the booster seat. But I have the car anyway. I can figure out how to install it. I break open the tape.
It seems ludicrous suddenly. I’ve just sent a text setting some sort of mafia vigilante rogue cop person on my enemy, and I’m sitting on the floor reading instructions on how to install a kid seat.
I pull open the flaps. I picked a pink one, Lily’s favorite color. It’s so small, a little chair with an upholstered bottom and tiny armrests. There’s a cup holder, even.
The instructions are all pictures. I stare at them for several minutes, but I can’t concentrate on where the straps slide in and come out. I set it all aside.
Maybe I should go somewhere. Get in an illegal fight and pound someone. I’ll even let them have the winnings. I don’t care about that.
Buster’s is closed. I’ve never kept equipment at my apartment. Maybe I should. A punching bag would be great. I wonder if something’s open. I could go buy one.
Stupid mundane thoughts with so much happening.
My phone buzzes again and I snatch it up. It’s Colt, saying he has two of his dad’s ex-heavyweight boxer security guards heading to Maddie’s mother’s house. ETA ten minutes. He’ll be there himself within the hour.
I want to go too, but Maddie asked me not to. I walk over to the cou
nter and pick up the ring box again and pop it open. The diamond sparkles in the light. I don’t know when I might get to see it on her finger.
My phone buzzes again. I turn to look at it, lit up on the counter. Then I grab it, staring, reading it again. It’s Jax.
The sister has intercepted Maddie. Get there quick.
Coordinates: 34.04225° N x 118.201014° W.
Lani. She was following her all along. I should have known. I should have gone with her.
I copy the coordinates into a maps app even as I yank the door open and run down the hall. Within seconds, I have the location.
Evergreen Cemetery.
Chapter 14: Maddie
I’m not sure what Parker meant by that text to Jax. Finish this. The words turn over and over in my mind.
I’m torn. Even though Striker was horrible and his friends kidnapped me, I don’t want to see him killed. That won’t solve anything. A trial. Who knows how that could play out? And the media attention. How am I supposed to keep Lily safe then? How far does this go?
I need air. I need to get away. My mother and Aunt Delores’s endless bickering sounds heavenly compared to this.
As I head to the bus stop, I’m so scared that I’m shaking. Maybe I should have had Parker drive me.
But this is my hometown. My neighborhood. I know these streets. I prowled them as a young girl, much more vulnerable than the woman I am now.
I cross two streets and head toward Cesar Chavez, where I can catch a quick ride up three stops to Mom’s house. I almost walk it, but it’s cold. It’s too close to bother with a taxi.
The long chain-link fence for the cemetery borders the sidewalk. It’s dark now, and the headstones are barely discernible in the few lights that dot the interior walks. I haven’t been along those paths since I was a teenager, where sneaking inside was a common dare in this neighborhood.
It’s not late. A young couple jogs on the running path, a rubbery trail that is new since I was last here. I guess they are trying to make the place more useful. The couple pass me, nodding in greeting.
Parker said my father sleeps in this cemetery. I slow down for a second, looking past the brittle vines that weave into the chain links of the fence. The headstones are like dark shadows across the fields inside. I shiver and keep walking.
Another jogger is approaching on the long stretch of sidewalk. She’s dressed oddly for a runner, in a hoodie pulled tight on her head, the strings tightened so that only her eyes show from the narrow oval on her face.
She slows down, as if she’s suddenly winded. She’s almost jogging in place, like she wants to stay where she is. Maybe she’s waiting for someone to catch up. She’s not very large. I don’t feel particularly worried about her. But still, something tickles along my spine. Anybody acting out of the ordinary is something I should notice.
I wonder if I should turn around and go back the other way. But the bus stop is just around the corner. I can hop on and be home in ten minutes if the route is on time.
So I push on.
I keep my eyes down on the sidewalk as I approach this girl, although I can see her ankles and shoes. I’m about to pass her when she grabs my shoulders and throws me against the chain-link fence.
I fight against her, but she shoves even harder and I realize I’m falling backward. This section of the fence is cut, and the crumbling vines part to let me through. The exposed wires snag my jacket, tearing at the leather.
The girl shoves me again and I hit the ground inside the cemetery.
She ducks through.
I scramble back on my hands and feet like a crab, trying to get away from her. She stands up and walks alongside me. It’s ridiculous, me on the ground, scooting away, and her following along. I stop and roll over so I can stand up.
I don’t want to get too far from that hole in the fence. It’s hard to see with the trailing vines. If I take off running, I’ll just hit wall after wall. I’m sure the front gate is locked tight by now.
“What do you want?” I ask, willing my voice to be steady. But it’s almost a squeak.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
I can’t see anything but her eyes. But her voice does seem familiar.
“Are you one of Striker’s friends?”
“Something like that.”
“What do you want?” I ask again, taking a few steps back.
“I told you to break up with him.”
“I did!”
“And then you flew to LA just to let him bone you?”
Bone you. That was very familiar. Only one girl ever used to say that.
“Lani?” I ask. She was Parker’s longtime friend.
She pulls down her hood. “So you do remember me.”
“Why are you involved with this?”
She walks in a circle around me. Her hair is tied back in braids. She’s not much different from how I remember.
She’s not answering, just looking at me as she paces. When Parker and I were dating, Lani was always working out at the gym. I don’t remember her actually doing any fighting, but she was constantly around. She had a brother who was a fighter, I think.
Then it dawns.
“Is Striker your brother?”
She reaches out and thumps me on the head with her thumb. “She remembers!”
“I didn’t know him then.”
“Sounds like you do now!” She’s still walking around me. It’s making me anxious, this endless circling.
I take a few steps away to mess up her pattern. She halts.
“I think he took a shine to you in Vegas,” she says.
I remember Striker looking at me, my dress up around my thighs. How angry that blue-haired girl would get.
“He has a girlfriend,” I say.
“He has toys,” she spits out. “An annoying habit of his.”
I don’t know what she wants, but I feel like I need to cut this short. “I have to get home,” I say and start moving toward the cut fence.
In several quick steps, she has cut me off. “To see your little girl?” she asks.
God, I hope Parker has called Colt and that they are at Mom’s house. “You stay away from her,” I say.
“Or you’ll do what? Sew me to death?” she laughs. “When I saw you were a grunt for that stupid designer, I couldn’t stop laughing. Do you pick out buttons?”
Whatever. I couldn’t care less that she’s making fun of my job. I try to go around her to the fence.
Her arm flies out to stop me. “We’re not done here.”
I fling it off. “Yes, we are. You keep threatening me, I’ll take it to the cops.”
“No,” she says, with enough force to make me pause. “You would have called them by now if you were going to.”
I start walking again.
“You afraid of going public?” Lani asks. “Afraid of your little girl’s face being in the news?”
I keep going. Whatever intimidation she thought was going to work on me is done. Since they know about Lily, it’s time to go for the police. In fact, screw it, I’ll do it now. I tug my phone out of my pocket. I have just hit the button to wake it up when I’m knocked to the ground.
“I don’t think so,” Lani says and snatches my phone from my hand. She flings it across the cemetery. I can’t see where it lands.
I roll away to stand up, but she’s on me, on my back, her arms locking around my neck. God, she wants a fight. A real fight.
“This is so stupid,” I say.
“Keep talking while you can, bitch,” she says.
Her arm tightens around my throat. It’s not really constricting me, but her weight pushing me into the dirt is painful.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
“You didn’t do what you were told.”
I grapple for her wrist, trying to pull her arm away. She’s surprisingly strong for her size, and well trained. I don’t know anything other than what I’ve seen in matches.
I grab a handful of dirt,
squeeze my eyes shut, and throw it at both our faces. She lets go in surprise and I roll away, rubbing my sleeve across my eyes before trying to open them.
“You little bitch,” she screams.
I scramble for the fence. This girl is bat-shit crazy. No telling what she might do.
Lani recovers enough to come after me. She jumps on my back and we go back down. Damn it. I cannot lose this girl. But even if I do, I realize she’ll still be around. She’ll try it again.
And next time I might be with Lily.
My hatred of this girl burns so hard that I find a strength I didn’t know I had. I roll on my back even with Lani on it. When I’m on top of her, I slam my elbow back into her ribs. When I hear her “Ooof,” I do it again on the other side.
She doesn’t let go, though. She’s tough.
Lani might be trained, but I was one scrappy bitch growing up in the rough part of town where I ran around. She starts working her legs to get the advantage on me, to get me off her. But I’m not giving up either. I plant my feet on the ground and lift my hips, then slam back down on her with all my might.
This stills her for a second and I elbow her again, over and over, as much as I can.
Now she’s riled. Her body lurches at the same time her arms push hard on my back. I fly off her. My elbow digs into the dirt, and I roll over.
But she’s fast. She’s on her feet, and before I can get above hands and knees, she’s kicked me hard in the belly. I feel like my gut has exploded, pain rocketing through me. She switches legs and kicks again, and I know I have to get up. If I don’t, I’ll get hurt very bad very fast.
I spin away, stifling the urge to throw up everywhere. I can barely breathe.
She comes up behind me with a strange stutter step. She’s going to do some martial-arts move. The motion feels familiar from watching Parker. I lunge out of her path to throw her off and hopefully miss the worst force of whatever blow she’s planning.
Her foot grazes my thigh. It hurts, but probably not nearly as much as what she intended. Time to find out how fast she runs.
