Retaliatory Justice

by Tawa M. Witko

  “Morning,” he returns, scooting back and patting the mattress in front of him.

  I smile at the sight before me. What I wouldn’t give to see him like this every day. Walking up to the bed, I lie with my back pressed against his chest as his arms wrap completely around me. His head nuzzles against my neck where he begins kissing me lightly.

  “I don’t want you sneaking off again,” he smiles against my skin. I slap his hand that is around my waist and he chuckles. “And people say I’m a hot head.”

  I giggle. “I’m not a hot head, and, for the record, it made sense to think you were a hit man. After all, I had caught you trying to sneak into the private dining room where my most likely shady bosses were hosting a creepy dinner party. It was a logical assumption.”

  He laughs. “I come across as a hit man, huh?”

  “Well, not completely,” I conceded before continuing. “But I was terrified when I tripped over your gun.”

  He’s quiet for a moment and then moves his hand to turn my face to his. His expression is hard and fierce and I’m a little scared at the moment. Did I say something wrong? He was just laughing and now he looks upset. He must sense my unease and tries to look more unassuming but it isn’t working.

  “Are you involved in any of this?” he asks firmly and I shake my head. “Were you and Mr. De la Fosse...” he furrows his brows and his face hardens again. “Were you and Mr. De la Fosse in a relationship?”

  “NO!” I reply angrily.

  “You are there all the time, Dominique. Are you sure you have no idea what your bosses are up too?”

  I get up quickly and start pacing, pissed beyond anything. “NO! I didn’t screw any of my bosses. NO! I don’t know what the hell any of them are up to. And YES! You can get out of here if that’s what you came here for,” I say pointing to my door, tears streaming down my face.

  He sits up and plants his feet on the floor. He looks down for a moment and then motions for me to come to him. When I don’t move, he sighs as he looks up to me.

  “Dominique, come here,” he says calmly. “Please.”

  I walk to him slowly, and when I get within reach, he wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me between his legs. His hands start moving up and down my back and finally settle on my rear. He looks up at me with the same apologetic look on his face that he had that first night we were together.

  “I’m sorry, but I needed to know if you were involved.”

  “I’m not,” I say in almost a whine.

  He smirks and nods just slightly. “Okay, now, don’t get all scrappy on me.”

  Scrappy! I push him back so he is lying down with his feet still planted on the floor. I then straddle his chest while he smiles sexily at me. He has the look of a man who knows what he wants and is accustomed to getting it. He shifts us, laying me on the bed next to him. His face is the epitome of sex. He only says one word.

  “CONDOM!”

  I lull my head towards the nightstand as he digs one out and quickly puts it on. There is no hesitation just like the first time we were together. He shoves inside me and lets out a deep and feral growl, a sound that makes my body pulse in anticipation. His face is contorting sexily as sweat beads his brow. His mouth parts as he sucks air in through his teeth until he grunts one last time, his body stiffening above me. He gasps suddenly and moves his hand between us, helping me along as he continues to thrust. When I scream out in pleasure, he continues to move within me several more times before slowing down and falling on the bed beside me, sweaty and out of breath.

  “That was…” he pauses.

  “Amazing,” I finish.

  He grins and kisses my forehead. “Yes, it was.”

  “Let’s take a shower and then I’ll make us breakfast,” I say, kissing his chest.

  “Sounds good to me,” he replies slapping my rear.

  “Hey,” I laugh as he jumps out of the bed.

  He heads straight to the bathroom while I run to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee and then toss a couple of packages of steaks into some hot water to do a quick defrost, figuring I can make steak and eggs, the breakfast of champions, well, maybe not champions but it will be filling. I take some of the dough I made Wednesday morning and set it on the counter to raise. Once I get things ready, I dart back down the hall and meet him in the bathroom.

  “We should invite your partner over for breakfast,” I say as I throw my hair up into a messy bun, bypassing my shower cap.

  He rolls his eyes as I step in the shower with him, feeling the hot water immediately.

  “What’s the eye roll about?” I ask as he starts soaping up my poof. “You guys don’t get along?”

  He chuckles lightly as he starts washing me. “No, we get along fine. He’s actually engaged to my best friend, Kailee, but…”

  He turns me so that I’m in the water where he starts running his hands all over me, rinsing the soap off my body.

  “But what?” I ask, distracted by what he’s doing.

  “I kind of wanted you all to myself for a little while.”

  I take the poof from him and add some more soap and proceed to wash him as he did me. It feels so good to be this intimate with someone. I know we have had sex, but anyone can have sex and not care about them. But this, I hum softly, no, this, this is different. What we are doing right now isn’t one night stand material. I smile at him.

  “That’s very sweet, Valentino, and as much as I want you all to myself as well, I’ll feel bad if he eats awful motel food, or worse, fast food, when you and I are eating steak and eggs.”

  He smiles brightly. “You’re going to make steak and eggs?”

  “Yes,” I say with a quick peck on his lips. I position him under the water like he did me. “And fresh bread, fresh squeezed orange juice, and southern hash browns.”

  He closes his eyes and moans. “Okay, I will call him when we get out.”

  I kiss him for a few minutes and then slap his rear. He grins before pushing me against the wall of the shower, deepening our kiss. I don’t know how long we stand there kissing like that but it’s long enough that the water starts to get cold. Finally, he pulls away from me, with a naughty look on his face.

  “If you keep kissing me like that I’m going to need this cold shower,” he says with a wink.

  I laugh and scoot passed him to flip the water off. “I wasn’t aware I had that much power over you.”

  “Well, you do,” he answers with a quick kiss.

  “Good to know,” I reply, handing him a towel, which he promptly wraps around his waist.

  “I’m going to get my clothes,” he says as he opens the bathroom door and steps outside.

  I am redoing my bun when he stops abruptly causing me to bump right into him. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Nothing’s wrong, Dominique,” Jackson says coolly.

  I wrap my robe around me tighter.

  “I’m sorry, Dominique. Jackson was worried. We have been trying to reach you for an hour.”

  “I’m fine,” I say rolling my eyes and step in front of Valentino. “Valentino, this is my roommate, Santiago, and his overprotective boyfriend, Jackson.”

  Jackson stands in front of Santiago and crosses his arms. “Officer LeBlanc. Can you explain why there are two loaded weapons on the coffee table?”

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Jackson, he’s an agent with the ATF.”

  “If you give me a second, I can show you my badge,” Valentino states calmly but there is something in his tone that says he expects compliance from Jackson.

  Jackson steps aside just slightly. Valentino walks passed him and into the living room. He reaches for his pants with one hand while holding his towel with the other. He snaps his badge off his belt and hands it to Jackson for his inspection. Jackson glances at it and then hands it back to him, stretching out his hand. Valentino grabs it shaking it briefly.

  “Sorry about that,” Jackson states seriously. “Dominique is like a sister to me, and with all t
he things happening, I needed to be sure and then we came in and found guns on the table. That was suspicious in my book,” he tries to explain.

  “Not a problem. I would probably do worse.” Valentino then turns to me. “I’m going to change.” I nod and he looks at Santiago with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Santiago.”

  “Likewise.”

  He grabs the rest of our clothes that are piled up and heads back to my bedroom. I start for the kitchen and look at both of them. They have twisted their bodies so they can see me.

  “I assume you’re staying for breakfast?” I ask.

  “If those are steaks in the sink, yes, ma’am, we are,” Jackson replies immediately.

  I shake my head and laugh as I pour a cup of coffee and get the bread in the oven. A couple of minutes later, Valentino is dressed and walking into the kitchen. I hand him a cup of coffee as he kisses me on the forehead again. I’m shocked at how normal our exchange is. It’s as if we’ve been together all our lives.

  “Clayton will be here in ten minutes. He was still asleep but when I mentioned steak and eggs he was wide awake.”

  I grin. “Boys.”

  I head into the bedroom to change quickly and then am back to cook. Santiago comes into the kitchen to help me but really it’s just to gossip because he knows I prefer to work in the kitchen by myself. He tries to get me to talk but I keep shaking my head and finally tell him we’ll talk later, which halts his inquisition. I glance over my shoulder and Valentino is at my bookcase holding a picture of me and my dad. His finger is running along the outline of first me and then my dad, his brows furrowed.

  “Dominique,” Santiago yells.

  Valentino turns to me and gives me a small smile before placing the picture down. Santiago is nudging me and I turn to him as he is trying haphazardly to flip the steak. Dang it! I have never once burned a steak in my entire life until now. Santiago touches my shoulder.

  “You okay?” he asks thoughtfully and I nod, then jump when I hear the knock on my door.

  Good lord! What’s wrong with me? Valentino walks towards the door and looks at me as if to ask if it’s okay that he answers it. I nod and turn back to my food, trying to get my act together so I don’t burn anything else.

  “So you’re already at the ‘answering the door’ phase, huh?”

  “Shut the hell up!” Valentino says under his breath but I still make out what he said.

  I hear heavy footsteps coming towards me and turn to see a monster of a man. My God! He looks like he could play professional football. He’s tall, probably close to seven foot with broad shoulders and pectorals that probably are as hard as a wall. He would be fierce if it weren’t for the big cheesy smile he has on his face.

  “Dominique, this is Agent Clayton Hoffman,” Valentino says while I raise my brows at the large hand that sticks out in front of me.

  I take it gingerly. “It’s nice to meet you, Agent Hoff…” he stops me with a reprimanding shake of his head.

  “Call me Clayton, please.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Clayton,” I let go of his hand and motion to Santiago. “This is my best friend and roomie Santiago,” he takes his hand and shakes it and then I motion to the living room as Jackson stands. “And his boyfriend, Jackson LeBlanc. One of NOLA’s finest.”

  Clayton turns to him and gives him a slight nod. “Officer.” Jackson smiles brightly. “This house smells amazing!” he says excitedly, rubbing his hands together.

  “Everything will be ready in about five minutes, go ahead and finish off the coffee, I’ll make another pot.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  I go back to my meal while the boys sort of mill about the living room talking about everything and nothing. Jackson is filling them in on the local sports scene while Santiago and I visit quietly about his night out with Jackson. We then set the table with my homemade bread and real butter, glasses of fresh squeezed orange juice in crystal goblets and finally the plates, filled with medium rare T-bone steaks lightly seasoned with fresh black pepper, ground garlic with a tad of my special Creole seasoning and topped with an orange twist. I pair the steak with my southern potatoes mixed with sweet red onions, green peppers and fresh minced garlic along with over easy eggs. I rarely get the chance to cook breakfast so when I do I tend to go all out.

  “Come and get it boys,” I say with a southern Louisiana drawl that makes Valentino cover his mouth to force down, dare I say, a laugh.

  “Holy shit, woman!” Clayton exclaims as he stares down at the spread before him.

  “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say, seeing him nod with his mouth wide open.

  Valentino is chewing on his lip and smiling and it’s sexier than it should be. I shake my head as I fight off the urge to push him against the fridge and have sex with him right there. Everyone takes a seat and unfortunately Valentino sits in the seat with the plate that has the slightly burnt steak. I snatch the plate and trade with him while he looks at me quizzically.

  “That steak isn’t perfect,” I say with a shrug.

  “It looks fine to me,” Clayton says from across the table.

  Santiago laughs louder than necessary. “Oh, it’s edible and probably tastes fantastic but our Dominique would never serve guests food that isn’t perfectly prepared.” They look at him strangely as I roll my eyes. “Translation, she was staring at your boy over there and slightly burned that one.”

  I’m going to kill him. “Santiago, honestly.”

  He shrugs and then moans around a bite of his food. I look down, out of pure embarrassment and then feel Valentino’s hand on mine. I look up at him just as he swaps steaks with me. My mouth drops and I shake my head crazily, like the look on my face must be insane because he chuckles before taking a bite.

  “It’s perfect!” he says grinning.

  “Please, Valentino,” I beg because he has no idea how this is stressing me out.

  “Dominique, it’s perfect. I like my steak medium well.”

  “Really? You’re not just saying that.”

  He nods and then leans over and gives me a quick peck on the lips. He tastes like a heady mix of spices and sex, okay, not really the sex part but it seems everything he does feels sexual and gets my lady parts all ready and eager to procreate.

  “Okay,” I mumble as he starts eating.

  We sit around the table enjoying our food and listening to Clayton’s jovial tales as a linebacker for the Huskers until there’s a lull in the conversation and then it shifts to Hurricane Katrina as Jackson talks about what it was like living in New Orleans when that hit. After a while, everyone is done, except for Clayton who is eating the remainder of my steak, and Jackson who has been talking more than eating.

  “You guys here because of the De la Fosse shooting?” Jackson asks, eyeing Valentino and Clayton.

  “Yes, we are,” is all Valentino says before taking a sip of his coffee.

  “I suppose you will be working with Agent Adams?” he asks and I can hear the anger in his voice. He does not like Adams one single bit.

  Valentino looks up at him. “Is there a problem with Adams?”

  Jackson stares at him for a long time, long enough for me to feel uncomfortable. Why does he have to do this now? I look at Santiago for help and he is already shaking his head at him, trying to get his attention. Finally, he starts cutting his steak with such force that I actually wince. How could he treat my perfectly prepared T-bone steak as a whipping board for his frustration?

  “Jackson! Is that necessary?” I finally question pointing to the way he’s cutting his meat. I glance around and Valentino and Clayton are giving me the same look, that, ‘my God, the girl is nuts’, look. “I’m sorry, but what he’s doing is a crime against that exceptional cut of meat.”

  Valentino sucks in a breath and his eyes squint shut and I can tell he’s desperate to laugh at my lunacy but is holding back. Suddenly the quiet room erupts in rambunctious laughter. I cross my arms a
nd huff in frustration which causes them to lower their guffaws to simple snickering at my expense.

  “Fine, laugh it up all you want but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s butchering my perfectly prepared steak because he’s pissed off that Agent Adams was a jerk to me after Phillipe was shot,” I say with indignation.

  Valentino stops laughing instantaneously. “What do you mean? What did he do?” he asks with such intensity that everyone stops laughing.

  “I know he’s your colleague but…” I start and Valentino scoffs and rises, pacing for a minute.

  “He is NOT my colleague,” he finally spits out before kneeling in front of me. “What did he do to you?” he asks again.

  “He just scared me.”

  “How?” he asks trying to sound calm but he does not do a good calm.

  He must see that he’s scaring me so he drops his head and runs his hands along my thighs. When he finally looks up, his eyes are softer, pleading for answers. So, I tell him everything, from the strange things going on in the restaurant, to the way Whitney and Marshall are, to the day of the shooting. Somewhere in the process, Clayton moves over to us and he is jotting notes in the little notepad we keep by the phone. Valentino never breaks eye contact with me. He just tells me, without saying a word, that it will be okay. When I’m done, I am overcome with tears as the enormity of the situation hits me.

  “Shhh,” he whispers as he envelops me in his arms.

  He holds me for god knows how long; running his hands along my braids and whispering that everything will be all right. At some point, I realize that I need to stop, that I can’t continue to act this way. I lift my head slightly and see that he is watching me with a look of tranquility on his face that he didn’t have before.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what brought that on,” I say, embarrassed with the way I’m acting. “I really need to quit that job. It isn’t worth all of this stress.”

  I hear Santiago and Jackson mutter ‘finally’ in the background but I’m only focused on Valentino. He tucks my hair behind my ear and breathes in deeply before kissing me lightly on the lips. He then swallows thickly before he begins.