by A. Gorman
“Sup, H.?”
“Blood came back as Wade’s, and he’s dead.”
“No shit.”
“Yes, Craig is heading to his place with a crew to look for blood evidence. Get a hold of him, and you two go over his condo when you can. I’ll be back in Denver around fifteen hundred.”
“This is big, H.”
“It is. This changes a lot of things.”
“I’ll revise the files and see you at your house around seventeen hundred.”
“Catch up then.” I hang up. Finally, a damn break.
“Who was that?”
“Sam with an update.”
“Well?”
“I’ll tell you on the plane. I have something else in mind right now.”
“Do I need to change my clothes?”
“No, the opposite. Take them off.”
“Okay.” She shimmies her dress down her tanned hips.
“Naughty girl, not wearing a bra today? Or underwear I see.”
“I was hoping to show you on the plane…in the bedroom.”
“You can show me there too, but I’m going to have my way with you now.”
“Okay.” She lies on the bed.
I quickly remove my clothes and join her, kissing her body. Let’s change things up a bit. “On your knees.”
“My knees?”
“All fours, actually.”
She nods and complies with my command. “I’m going to get a little rough. Let me know if I hurt you.”
She doesn’t answer.
“Jesse?”
“Yes?”
“I won’t purposely hurt you. You have to communicate.”
“Okay, I will.” She isn’t vocal in bed, but she’s loud when she comes. I hope she does as I ask.
I slowly insert my fingers into her sex, getting her wetness on my fingers to cover my dick, and I stroke it a few times, letting her juices coat me. She moans in anticipation, and I slam myself into her hot center, pushing until she can’t take anymore of me in.
“Are you okay?”
“Couldn’t be better,” she purrs.
This is straight up fucking. I’ve wanted to fuck her hard and long since we left Denver and now is my chance. I wrap her hair around my right hand and slightly pull back, arching her back. My thrusts continue, not letting up, even as I feel her tightening around me. She’s on the verge of coming, and I lick my left thumb and gently work it in her backside. Her purrs turn into moans, and I’m working my thumb in rhythm with my dick as she comes all over me. I can feel her wetness around me, and I pull on her hair a little harder.
“Keep going?”
She doesn’t reply.
“Jesse?”
“Fuck me, harder,” she moans.
“You got it.” I let go of her hair, but I don’t remove my thumb. I take my right hand and grab her ass, working her body against mine. Sweat covers my body and hers, and I have no intention of letting up until I come.
Being inside of her feels so good. It feels like she’s where I’m supposed to be. The way she grips me, keeps me on the verge of coming. I should slow down, but I can’t. It feels too good.
I groan loudly as I pour myself into her, slowing my strokes as she milks me. I pull my thumb out and slide out of her before she collapses on the bed.
“That was intense. I didn’t know what to expect after you said you were going to be rough,” she confesses.
“I couldn’t control myself anymore because I wanted you hard and fast. Don’t get me wrong. It’s good every time with you…but that was…wow.”
“Yeah. I liked you pulling my hair…and that other thing too.” She’s acting shy and embarrassed.
“Me too. Quick shower before we go?”
“Please.”
I scoop her up and carry her to the bathroom to shower quickly before we have to leave. The shower accommodates both of us and I take my time washing her hair, her body, and washing myself with haste before we rinse off. The towels outside the shower are waiting for us when we turn off the water.
Jesse goes through her normal process of taking all day while I’m dried off and ready to get dressed in five minutes. I put on my clothes, socks, and shoes, and pick up Jesse’s dress and lay it on the bed.
“Babe, while you’re getting ready, I’m going to make sure the house is secure, and everything is ready for them when they come home tomorrow.”
“Okay, I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”
“Sounds good.” I know it will be more like thirty or forty-five minutes.
My phone buzzes in my pocket on my way down the stairs. I’m hoping it’s Sam with some news.
“Did you already head to Wade’s?”
“Sure did. I was already in the area. Does the old STP song ‘Dead and Bloated’ mean anything to you?”
“Wade?”
“Yes. He was sitting in his condo waiting for us. Kind of sitting. His head was separated from his body, and he’s a bloated mess. I don’t know how anyone didn’t notice the smell coming from his place. It smelled like road kill on a hot day.”
“His body hasn’t been there that long. Is that enough time for it to be in that state?”
“Yes, it’s been a week since we were there. We checked it same day as the scene at McCoy’s. There was nothing here, but the AC was off, so the condo became a cesspool. Add a body to that.”
“I don’t want to imagine. Have Craig’s guys deal with the body. I’ll call his parents in bit.”
“Okay.”
“Later,” I coolly reply and hang up, not able to process the phone call. My mind is a chaotic mess. After a few moments of going through everything, I decide to call his parents from the plane after I talk to Craig.
***
Files scatter my desk when I arrive in my home office. Sam’s messy filing system drives me insane and he swears he knows where everything is. I finger through the files, hoping to find one that will talk to me.
“Don’t touch those files, H. You’ll mess up my system.”
“Chaos is your system?”
“No, I know exactly where everything is.
“Sure you do…so, tell me more about Wade.” He grabs the files one by one off the desk, placing papers on the inside before stacking them neatly together.
“Whoever placed his body there knew we would come back to the apartment. Had to be someone strong or several people, because Wade wasn’t a little man and they didn’t make a mess in the condo either. Whoever killed him drained the blood from his body before he died, because there wasn’t much blood left in his organs. Also, his tissues showed signs of frostbite.”
“He was frozen?”
“Right now they are thinking he was incapacitated as the blood was drained from his body, he died due to blood loss, and both the blood and his body were frozen. They are estimating his death over two months ago.”
“Brutal. Was anything in the apartment disturbed?”
“The place was clean, sans his body. How did you explain his death to his parents?”
“I said it was a training exercise gone bad and offered them my sincere condolences.”
“Even though he tried to kill you?” He chuckles. “Wait, H. I just thought of something. If he’s been dead as they are estimating, then he’s not the one who shot you. The first shooting was the first weekend of May. That would be right at two months.”
“Yes, and that would explain why the person shot at McCoy’s chest and not head. Wade knew he was wearing a ballistic jacket. No one else would have unless they were on the security team. Chet?” I suggest.
“The build is similar and with makeup, they would be identical. Makes sense.”
“It does. Makes a whole hell of a lot of sense, but if he was working with Chantelle and Chet, why didn’t he tell them about McCoy’s jacket?”
“They could have killed him before he got the chance to tell them. That information was in the last memo that I sent out.”
“This is the brea
k we needed. Chantelle used Wade to get to McCoy and she used Chet to create drama with Jesse to keep us on her instead of McCoy. We need to make sure that everything is locked up tight.”
“Indeed we do. Is Wade’s family taken care of?”
“Yes. Don’t need them up our asses. I paid for everything too. The quicker he’s cremated the better.”
“When’s that happening?”
I look down at my watch. “Now.”
“Good. How’s Jesse taking it?”
“Better than I thought. She’s worried about her family’s safety. She talked to McCoy and he’s going to Los Angeles after his Vegas stay.”
“Good. Won’t be easy to find him.”
“Right, especially when he’s staying off the grid.”
“Good. Trent is a lucky SOB.”
“Tell him that when he gets back, especially with his wife getting ready to pop.”
“Ouch. She’s due soon?”
“Next month. I’ll have him home before then. Speaking of home, how’s it going with Laney?”
“I could hit that for the rest of my life.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah. I hope it stays like this because I could see her being the one.”
“Cough. Cough. Where’s my Benjamin?” I laugh, remembering the bet.
“I was hoping you’d forgot about that,” he says, retrieving his wallet from his back pocket and pulling a crisp hundred out.
“Never when it comes to taking your money.”
“So what’s happening with you and Jesse?”
“Keeping her safe and satisfied is all I’m worried about now. Once everything is calmed down, I’m going to pop the question.”
“Are you ready for that?”
“I already protect her like she’s my forever, what would marriage change?”
“Kids.”
“No, neither of us want them right now. We have my nephews to spoil.”
“Just make sure she’s on the same page as you, man. The world already has one of you. We don’t need several little yous running around.”
“You’re funny.”
“I know.
“I’m out for a bit. Going to spend time with Laney before I head to Idaho for a week.”
“How’s the search for a replacement going?”
“Slow. I haven’t found anyone that would be a good fit, and we had a guy resign in base security. I can’t promote anyone up from there until I find a replacement for him and the person I’m promoting.”
“The joys of being a supervisor.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He walks out of my office, and I chuckle, knowing he’s cussing me in his head.
I sit back in my chair and play out everything in my mind that has happened in the past six months. Emails, phone calls, break-ins, public threats, a shooting, and a death. I try to wrap my head around the fact that Wade is dead. Chantelle and Chet are missing, and they are the only leads who have a vendetta against the McCoys. I assume they are hiding together, especially since they’re family. Chet would be strong enough to move Wade’s body, and he has computer knowledge, so he could have used the system to his advantage, especially if Wade set something up before he was killed.
Until now, I’ve underestimated the depths of Chantelle’s plan. I didn’t think she would go this far. I thought emails and calls were more her style, adding in a little blackmail here and there. The only way we’re going to catch her is by thinking like her. I need to figure out what her end goal is.
My chair is killing my back. My body is stiff from being on the plane, and my mind needs to be cleared. The one place that I can do that is at the shooting range, and it would be good to brush up on my skills and let my mind relax.
***
Jesse
Saturday morning slowly passes. The oversized brown leather couch swallows my body as I sit, recouping after our fabulous week-long getaway. Vacation mode is over, and it’s back to business, even though I’m in shorts and a t-shirt. Dad and I talked on the phone for two hours. He made sure I knew he had decided to go to Los Angeles after his stay in Vegas. The farther away from me he is, the safer he’ll be, but I just wish I could send Reese and Tierney away. School resumes in a few weeks for Reese, and Tier’s dance company is going to the east coast for a few months. I want to send a bodyguard with them both and that is a discussion I will need to have with Sam.
If Chantelle is behind all of this, why does she want to hurt or even kill Dad now? She could have done it so many times since it was mostly her, Dad, and Wade. In all these years, there hasn’t been a single sign that she was so sinister, so cruel. Is all of this her, or is it someone else? I didn’t know anyone who has a problem with my family…I didn’t even know someone had a problem with anyone other than me until the break-in at Dad’s. Chet crosses my mind, but what would he have to gain by coming after my family all these years later? He got everything I had, plus what was put away for our child. I hoped that he would move on and grow up after we went our own ways.
Tears threaten to stream down my face. I would be the mother of a four-year-old. We would be parents. What kind of parents would we have been? There was so much left unsaid. He caused me so much pain and self-doubt, but going through all that made me a stronger, better person. I hope it’s done the same for him. I hope he didn’t let the bitterness consume him, and I pray that I’m not the reason he turned into the person he was in the end.
“Hey, babe, what’s wrong?” Aedan asks as he pulls me into his chest after he sits down on the couch.
“I’m being stupid. Thinking of the past, things I can’t fix.”
“I doubt it’s stupid. Want to talk about it?”
“I…um…was thinking about the baby. It’s hard to describe how I’m feeling…”
“Did you talk to a professional after the loss?”
“Yeah, after the divorce. He helped me a lot and it was his advice that got me back to Denver.”
“Sounds like he knew what he was talking about.”
“He did, but I still wonder every once in a while what kind of mother I would be, what my child would look like…so many things.”
“You would be an amazing mother. I see how you interact with my nephews. I know it’s not the same, but you’re a natural. I’m sure she would have been beautiful just like you.” He holds me tight and I let the tears flow. I’m thankful that I gave love a second chance.
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you.” He wipes the tears from my face and kisses my nose. “Are you hungry or anything?”
“A little.”
“I might need to go out and grab something, because I told Sam to eat whatever was left in the fridge, and he did. Everything.”
“Going to the grocery store sounds so normal…and I haven’t done it for months. Let’s go.”
He hugs me tightly before he lets go of me so I can get off his lap. I put on my shoes and grab my purse off the kitchen bar. He leads the way to the garage and opens the car door for me.
“You know what? I would like to get a new car.”
“That’s random.”
“I know. My car is still the garage at my house…and I haven’t driven it in months.”
“And the people of Denver thank you for that.”
“Hey, I’m not that bad of a driver,” I say as he pulls the car out of the garage.
“Just slow.”
“I drive the speed limit.”
“How many people go the limit?”
“Not many, especially not you.”
“I’m a safe driver.”
“You are. Can we look at cars before we go to the grocery store?”
“How about we grab lunch, look at cars, and go to the grocery, all in that order.”
“Deal.”
I turn my focus from my sexy boyfriend to the view outside, and I hope the normalcy can continue. This might be mundane to some, but I’ll take it over the fear of death.
***
Mond
ay I get to pick up the keys to my brand new Rebel Blue Volvo S60 Polestar. As soon as the salesman told me the name of the car, I giggled, but knew I had to have it after the test drive. I think I’ll drive with the flow of traffic now, because the car has some power behind it. I’m trading in my old car and paying cash for the rest of it. Aedan said he would even make room for it in his garage, which gives me hope that I’ll be able to drive it to work. I don’t mind having a chauffeur, but I don’t need one. Well, maybe I do until Aedan finds out who is behind what’s going on.
Finding a car didn’t take as long as it’s taking in the grocery store. We’ve only been down one aisle and we’ve been here at least thirty minutes. Now I understand why he normally has the groceries delivered. He’s picky.
“Babe, let’s get enough food for the weekend and we will have the rest delivered Monday or we can do curbside tomorrow,” I tell him.
“That works for me,” he says as he bags up the apples in his hand. “What about family dinner tomorrow?”
“I’ll order Italian and we can pick it up before they come over.”
“Fast thinking.”
“Milk, cereal, and meats and cheese. That should be enough to get us through.”
He nods and pushes the cart to the cereal aisle, and I quickly pick out a box of Cheerios. Aedan looks at me like I’m crazy, so I grab a box of Cocoa Crispies—Aedan and his chocolaty cereal—and he smiles at my selection. The last few items take minutes to grab, and we check out and are on the way home.
After the groceries are put away, I find myself back in the same place I was before we left, on the couch. I don’t want to watch TV, because I’m not in the mood, but I want to keep my mind occupied. I think too much if I’m not doing something.
I wonder what Aedan is up to. He said something about working in his office, but I think that’s overrated. He’s worked enough since we’ve been back from Big Bear. I walk through the foyer and see the door to his office is open, and I walk in without knocking. His attention is focused on his work, and I sit down in a chair in front of him. He looks up from his papers, over his glasses.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s okay. I just don’t feel like being alone.”
