A Civilian for Silo

by J. A. Hornbuckle

That’s my guy, I thought in self-satisfaction. He’d see right through the witch and ignore her obvious pleas for attention.

  But the bastard brought her inside before both my sister and Mel entered.

  “Hey, princess,” Silo greeted, his beautiful eyes on mine. Just the shared look had my tummy tumbling. “This is Mrs. Colton, our real estate agent.” His eyes went to the table before coming back to mine. “We got enough for one fucking more?”

  Fists clenched, I turned back towards the kitchen but saw Julie was already on it, dragging out another plate, more silverware and another napkin.

  “Of course, honey,” I whispered, pasting a smile on my face as I went back to where he stood. I caught the confusion in his gaze as I entwined an arm with his. “You ready to eat, big guy?”

  “Ye-yeah, Shell. Smells fucking amazing.” I’d give it to him, the man always knew the right thing to say at the right time, whether it was in a crowd of people like the ones that were maneuvering for the spaces around our table or when we were alone. And naked in his bed.

  Taking in the view of where Miss Overly Dressed Thang had decided to sit, I couldn’t help my snort and turned away to remove the bread that had been heating in the microwave. Obviously, she thought Silo would take the head of the table or at least a seat on the end. But she was sadly mistaken since he’d always sat in one of the side chairs. The one to the left of me, which put me directly across from her. I glanced at Lulu’s fiancé at the head of the table and saw he was looking at my sister with a befuddled gaze.

  Julie though was using her napkin to hide her smile.

  Everyone began passing me their plates and I dished up the wonderful smelling chicken breasts, smothered in tomatoes, onions and bell peppers with the noodles. After everyone was served, I picked up my knife and fork but caught the realtor poking at the chicken on her plate.

  “Is something wrong?” I didn’t like the look I saw on the other woman’s face.

  She glanced up at me before looking at the others around the table. “I’m a vegetarian.”

  Silo’s fork stopped halfway between his plate and his mouth. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  Leaning into his shoulder and turning my mouth towards his ear, I whispered loudly, “she doesn’t eat meat.”

  Silo twisted his head slowly towards mine and I saw the color of his eyes go from gray to soft blue as he looked at me. Somehow, I knew the color change had nothing to do with the conversation at hand, but at the connection the two of us couldn’t seem to deny.

  There was a rustle of fabric from across the table and I turned back to our guest. I could feel the heat in my face that showed my feelings with just an innocent shared glance with Silo. But that emotion quickly morphed into a flash fire of anger as I watched the other woman remove her expensive suit jacket and hang it on the back of her chair. Underneath, she’d worn a thin but tight silk shell, so thin you could see the lace of her bra. As she settled her top into place, I swore she stuck out her boobs with her eyes never leaving Silo.

  Bitch!

  I gave a sidelong look but he was turned to Julie, asking about the little girl’s day. I swung back to the woman with a smile. Yeah, she may have wanted him but Silo didn’t seem to be reciprocating that same level of interest.

  In fact, he appeared to give her little to no attention throughout the meal, barely responding to her conversational gambits.

  “I love what you’ve done with this place, Silo,” she offered at one point.

  I saw him shoot the other woman a swift glance before scooping up another huge bite. “I didn’t do shit. Shell did.”

  Was it my imagination or did the woman’s look turn poisonous as her eyes met mine? “You are quite the little haus-frau, Shelly. You cook, decorate and look after the home then?”

  There was a definite sneer in the other woman’s voice that belied any compliment her words might’ve held.

  “Reesie helped,” Julie piped in before I could even sharpen my verbal knives. “She’s teaching us both how to cook.”

  The realtor frowned as she speared a noodle.

  “Shelly was a career-woman until recent,” Silo explained further, wiping his mouth with his napkin before looking at me again. “But she fucking rocks at everything she puts her hand to do.”

  Something inside me bloomed at the admiration in his eyes.

  “And what was your career then?” There was derision in the other woman’s voice.

  Nope. I was not going there, was not going to give the Colton bitch any ammo against me.

  “So have you always been in real estate?” I asked sweetly, trying to turn the conversation.

  She narrowed her eyes and I saw her lips thin. “It’s a family business. My father started selling in the seventies.”

  “Thought you said you goddamn owned it,” Silo cut in, tossing his napkin in the center of his now clean plate. “Ain’t that what you told me?”

  “Well, I do own a piece of it,” the woman hedged, dragging the tines of her fork in the remaining sauce on her dish, poking at the chicken breast I’d dished out. “Dad will be retiring in a couple of years. My brother and I will be buying him out…”

  “I’ll take that as a fucking no.” Silo stretched an arm out over the top of my chair and looked down at me with a smile. “Outdid yourself, girl. Great fucking eats.”

  “Thanks, Si’.” Two compliments in a row had me beaming. “Are you ready for dessert?”

  “We made chocolate kiss cookies!” Julie shouted with a giggle, referring to the peanut butter cookies we’d made that afternoon which were topped with a candy kiss.

  “Maybe later, pretty girl,” Silo mumbled, still staring into my eyes. “Let me get the shit sorted with Mrs. Colton and get her gone, then we’ll do your cookies.”

  I glanced at the realtor, wondering if she caught my biker’s none-too-subtle reminder that just because she’d eaten with our family, she was there for business.

  Nothing more.

  At her crestfallen expression, I knew she had.

  Typically, Lulu and Mel would take care of cleaning the kitchen after dinner, something my sister described as their ‘alone but non-bed time’ at the end of the day. But that night, Silo asked Mel to sit with him and the realtor. A move I was sure was calculated to prevent the other woman’s flirtatious attempts to gain Silo’s favor.

  As Julie went to her room to complete her homework and the small group went to the sectional to talk business, Lulu and I made short work of getting the dishwasher going and scrubbing the pots.

  “God, she was practically crawling all over him at dinner,” Lulu whispered, elbow-deep in dishwater.

  “You think?” I replied with a soft snort, drying the large saucepan. “Could anyone be more obvious?”

  “He only had eyes for you, though, Shelly.”

  I didn’t respond but silently agreed with Lulu’s assessment and remembered both his admiring words and soft gazes throughout dinner.

  “Have you changed your mind about long term?” she asked before using the dishcloth on the countertops. The question was asked a little too innocently for me not to realize my sister was, yet again, fishing.

  “It’s complicated,” I murmured, turning away. I didn’t want another speech from Lulu on the subject. One had been more than enough.

  “I wouldn’t wait too long, Shell. There seem to be a lot of girls that wouldn’t mind having a piece of that big guy.” As per usual, Lulu said what she wanted to say whether or not I wanted to hear it.

  However, her point was well taken.

  I needed to either fish or cut bait when it came to being with Silo, because there was the real possibility he’d move on. Or receive encouragement to do so.

  It wasn’t fair to keep either him or myself in limbo.

  *.*.*.*.*

  David Moore had parked his car around the corner and walked the distance to a place directly across the street from the house Silo had purchased. The mini-blinds had yet to be fully close
d and he could clearly see into the dining room/kitchen where his Michelle and her silly sister worked, as well as the living room that held the bald biker, another beautiful though unknown woman and another member of the motorcycle club. The information regarding the purchase of the house had finally been posted, enabling the FBI agent to learn of the street address. But what had David flummoxed and outraged was that the house had purportedly been purchased with cash. Cash!

  How had the lowlife scum gotten his hands on so much money? Was he in league with the Milosevics too, and had found the missing millions? No, that couldn’t be right because in his telephone conversation that afternoon with Drago, David had been taken to task for leaving New Mexico.

  “Your office states you are on vacation, Mr. Moore,” the oily voice had detailed. “And further research shows you are in Montana. Is there a reason you are no longer looking for our missing money?”

  David’s mouth had gone completely dry at the other man’s tone. Even though a threat had not been made, the implication of one was very, very clear. “No, Mr. Milosevic. As I told you, I believe Palmer’s daughters are the key to finding the location of where your money has been hidden and since both women are in Montana…”

  “I see.” Just two words, two clipped words were more effective at putting the fear of God into the bureaucrat than a shouted speech would’ve been. “Why did you not follow up with Palmer’s attorney as I last suggested?”

  “Mr. Billings?” David’s mind whirled to put together a coherent thought as his balls drew up tightly. “I told you. I’d tried talking to the man when I was first assigned the case but he cited attorney client confidentiality privileges.”

  “All privileges can be overlooked with the right incentive.” The oily voice had grown hard. “Why did you not explore a monetary inducement with the gentleman?”

  What? Did Milosevic mean David was supposed to share the million he’d been promised with another person? That was ridiculous! He struggled to come up with a reason that sounded plausible. “The man comes from wealth and doesn’t seem to need…”

  “Then the inducement should be of another sort, perhaps something along the lines of pain,” came Drago’s suggestion. An idea that David had never considered and one that he knew he’d never carry out. While the Bureau hadn’t supplied the salary he felt he was due, the agent did believe in the FBI guiding principles and core values. None of which allowed him to work a man over just to obtain information that would gain David half of his goal.

  David didn’t respond, knowing anything he said would only cause another suggestion that might be even worse than the last. “Am I the only person you have looking for the money?” he blurted.

  There was silence on the other end of the phone for more than a few beats. “Whether you are or are not, Mr. Moore, is none of your concern and if you wish to secure your finder’s fee for the return of our investment, you will make haste to uncover where Mr. Palmer has so carefully hidden it.”

  “I understand.” David had said, knowing there had no other way to answer.

  And as he stood in the shadows across the street from where his Michelle was living, he could think of no other way to get what the Serbian Mob boss and what he himself needed.

  Michelle was the key. He was sure of it.

  And he knew he needed to get her alone in order to put his plan in motion.

  As soon as was humanly possible.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I sat on the couch with my feet on the ottoman and my notebook opened on my knees. Allegedly, I was making the plans for the Honey’s first fund raiser. But my mind wasn’t on it.

  It was, as ever, on Silo who was rummaging around the kitchen after leading Theresa Colton to the door, but not walking her to her car. And my elation over his lack of manners in not doing so seemed out of place in light of my avowal that the burly biker wasn’t a part of my long term plans.

  Or was I simply in a place of ‘I don’t want him but no one else can have him either’? I hoped not because I’d never approved of that line of thinking in anyone.

  The man in question came and sat next to me, the new leather giving out a soft sigh as his weight hit it. “Cookie?” I turned my face to see he was holding up one of the promised desserts in one hand towards me.

  “No thanks,” I mumbled and went back to staring at my pad.

  “They’re great with milk,” he enticed.

  “They’re great with everything: coffee, water…” I and every atom in my body heard him munch and then moan as he shoved the whole cookie into his mouth at once. I don’t think I’d ever received a higher compliment, emitted without any words, before. Nor been privy to a sexier sound outside of the bedroom.

  “So you get everything worked out with your realtor?” I hadn’t planned on asking that particular question or on such a strident note, but it had just popped out of my mouth unheeded.

  “I gave her two fucking weeks. If she ain’t got our guys set the hell up by then she’s fucking out,” he mumbled between chews. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to see he was shaking his head. “What a fucking piece of work!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Knowing the fucking scope of what was gonna be in play with the new club, I scouted around for a realtor but didn’t want to deal with their goddamn cut-throat, big commissioned way of doing fucking bidness,” he started, then shoved another cookie in his mouth. “Tho I ashed fo’ da ownfer…”

  “What? I can’t understand you.” I knew he loved the cookies, but I could wait until he swallowed to hear what he had to say. I must’ve been grinning at his twelve-year old antics though, because I received a cookie-crumbled smile in return.

  He took a long pull of his huge glass of milk and started again. “So I asked for the owner of each agency. She was the only one that fucking called me back. But she fucking lied about the ownership thing.”

  Yeah, she had in a way. “She’s a co-owner,” I corrected.

  “Ain’t good enough to my way of thinking.” I thought he was splitting hairs, but it was his decision to make. “It wasn’t until she got the fucking 4-1-1 on how I paid for this place that had her trying to get at me like a fucking cat in heat.”

  My confusion must have shown because he went on. “When she found out I was paying in cash, her whole attitude fucking changed. Why do chicks do that?”

  I was trying to keep the surprise out of my face. He’d paid cash? For the house? “I don’t know.”

  “It happens a lot.”

  “What does?” My mind was spinning in its effort to determine where the man slouched in the seat next to me had acquired all his money.

  “A chick’s panties getting wet over the jangle in a man’s fucking pocket.”

  I shrugged while mentally adding up all the money Silo had spent in the last month. “Oh.”

  “Seems like that makes the bitch horny for the green, not the fucking dude.”

  “How were you able to pay cash for the house, Si’?” I knew it really was none of my business, but outside of robbing a bank I couldn’t imagine how he’d amassed his wealth.

  He dropped his eyes to the next cookie in his hand and I saw his cheeks color. “’Member how I told you about having to sell the ranch to pay Nana’s medical bills?”

  I nodded.

  “We had some bucks left over. I bought the place on Holland Street and fucking invested the rest,” he mumbled, turning the cookie over to peer at its underside. “Not even dark on the fucking bottom, Shell. How’d you do that?”

  No…wait.

  “Forget the cookie, Si!”

  Did he mean that he’d put his money into stocks and things?

  He looked up at me with a shy smile. “Seems I’m a fucking idiot savant when it comes to picking stocks. Made a fucking mint, baby.”

  Seriously?

  “Actually,” he amended before pushing the last cookie into his waiting mouth, chewing and swallowing before continuing. “My fuckin
g portfolio just keeps getting better all the goddamn time.”

  “You play the stock market?” I squeaked.

  “Yep.”

  “And you’re good at it?”

  “Fucking killer.” His smile went from ear to ear. “Handle most of the other Hellion’s investments, too.”

  I sat back stunned. “So, are you rich?”

  “Naw. Well-off, maybe. But I wouldn’t say rich.” He upended the last of his glass, smacking his lips afterward. “Have fucking more than enough to take care of you, though.”

  I whipped my head around at the last of his words. “As soon as this is over, I’ll pay you back every damn cent, Silo. I told you that before!”

  “Yeah, you did. But I didn’t fucking say I’d take it, now did I?” Why did his smile seem so smug?

  He twisted and put his glass on the glass-topped sofa table I’d tucked behind the longest part of the sectional before turning back to me…who was making fish movements with my mouth. “That make your panties wet?”

  “No!” My answer was almost given on a yell.

  “Betcha it does,” he laughed and moved a hand behind my back as his other arm reached for my legs.

  “It absolutely does not!” I pushed at him and the way he was trying to lift me up into his lap.

  “Let’s check it out and see…”

  “Put me down, Silo!” But I think the giggles that were starting to escape took some of the heat out of my words as we wrestled.

  “Or are they wet because I just fucking plain ol’ get you hot, Shell?” He shifted and moved my legs to straddle him. “Huh? Is that it?”

  He was so tall that even perched on his lap, his head was higher than mine and I stared up into his smiling, soft blue-gray eyes. “Nope,” I whispered and heard the quiver in my voice.

  The smile slipped away and I saw earnestness take its place. “I want you, baby. I want to be inside the fucking sweet, wet heat of you.”

  I may not have been damp before but my body was correcting that real quick.

  His hands moved to my bottom and he stood, causing me to grip his shoulders.

  “Where are we going, big guy?”