by S. M. Butler
“Yes,” he replied softly.
“One day?”
He nodded. “That’s it.”
He nearly self-combusted with joy when she nodded back. He smiled, full teeth showing. “Meet me here tomorrow morning? At like… ten?”
She hesitated but nodded again. “Okay. What are we going to do?”
“Fun,” he replied. He walked around the desk to where his forgotten tequila bottle was sitting. He screwed the cap back on and stashed it back in the drawer before coming back around to where Bea was still standing like a deer in the headlights. “Can I walk you home?”
“I can walk myself.”
“Then maybe you’d like to walk me home?”
She stared at him, her frown deepening. When she spoke again, her voice was uncharacteristically soft. “What game are you playing?”
“No game,” he replied. He held out his hand to her. “Just walk with me. You don’t even have to talk.” Her dark eyes narrowed to almost slits, as if she could drill her way into his head to see what his motivations were. She was bound for disappointment, though. He didn’t even know why he was doing this himself.
“Fine,” she said, sweeping past his hand and headed for the door. She paused at the door and glanced down. “Maybe you should zip up your pants before we go out into public, though.”
He looked down at where she was focused on and cursed. He’d forgotten to zip back up. His red boxers were on full display, complete with the uncomfortable bulge she’d left him with. He glanced up at her. For the first time since he’d known her, she had the hint of a smile on her face, a pink tint to her cheeks like she was holding back laughing at him. He liked the way she was looking at him in that moment, like she was unaware that she was actually acting like a real human being. Without looking away from her, he pushed himself back into his pants and buttoned the top button and re-buckled his belt.
He cleared his throat. “I think we’re good to go now.”
“Indeed,” she replied. “But you might want to zip that bad boy up, too.”
As she turned to leave, she shot him a smile that bordered on ten thousand watts in his eyes, but still managed to be subdued at the same time. As he zipped his pants up, he followed behind her. He wanted to always see that look on her face and he’d do just about anything to keep it there.
~*~*~
Nathan crossed his arms as the young woman on the screen brushed strawberry blonde hair from her eyes. Freckles peppered her pale skin but somehow, she still managed to have a glow about her.
“The files should be on their way to you now.”
Nathan broke out of his thoughts as she spoke. “Good. What else can you tell me about this organization?” The organization that Lewis said knew about him and his work. The organization that was involved in killing his family.
She sighed, obviously frustrated. “I’m not really knowledgeable about what my father was involved in, Nathan. Those are all the files from his computer and his safe. You’ve seen most of it already. I don’t have anything else for you.”
“I understand, Miss Lewis. Or is it Miss Giroux now?”
The woman shrugged, trying to pretend the question didn’t bother her. But Nathan knew better, from the brief tense of her muscles, almost imperceptible to the normal person, to the fast blink and the slight flare of her nostrils. “I suppose legally, it’s still Lewis. Never really felt much like a Giroux.”
Nathan leaned forward with curiosity. “Have they contacted you?” From what he could piece together from Senator Lewis’s records, Giroux Enterprises had supplied the explosives that matched the ones that killed his family. Maybe killing Jean Giroux was premature, but there were more Giroux out there he could hunt down. Abigail Lewis might just be the key he needed.
“Jean’s family?” She shook her head. “No. Not since his brother called months ago.”
“We have to assume Alexander Giroux will call again, eventually. Everything Jean Giroux owned is in your name now, as his daughter.”
“Nathan, I told you I don’t want this life you’re trying to suck me into. I’m not cut out for it. I’m not like your Reapers.”
“No, but you want to marry one of my Reapers,” he replied. He almost liked the way she recoiled, like he hadn’t known what that little rock on her finger meant, or the way she looked at Hardy when she didn’t think anyone was looking. Love was such a powerful emotion, one that made it very easy for him to manipulate. “That makes you very much my business.”
“I did what you wanted. I led you to Giroux. My father, by the way, that I didn’t even know before you made Chris kill him. I don’t want what you’re offering me.”
“And of course, I appreciate your cooperation in this matter, Miss Lewis.” He punched up the surveillance camera from her house, the estate where Daniel Lewis had kept her prisoner. She’d had the opportunity to sell it, like all his other estates, but that one she’d kept. It wasn’t like she needed it. She had a dozen more left to her by her birth father. No one really knew who was running Giroux Enterprise’s more illegal operations, maybe no one was now but she owned all the legit ones.
Wasn’t that what happened to Jean’s brother as well? He left everything to a woman who betrayed him as well. That was what love did to a person. It gave someone the opportunity to destroy one of the biggest criminal empires in the world. Giroux Enterprises was in shambles now. He didn’t feel bad for it, but he’d be damned if he’d ever let love do that to him. He’d worked too hard.
Besides, the only two females he’d ever loved and would ever love in his lifetime were six feet under in his family’s burial grounds.
He pushed the memories that threatened to break free of their cage back down and focused on what he was doing. He cycled through the multiple cameras until he came to the office where Abigail sat. The one Daniel Lewis had used when he’d threatened her life. Most of the large furniture was still there, but the safe had been replaced, the bookshelves cleaned out. The safe was one of Nathan’s, actually. She’d contracted one of his side companies for the install. She probably didn’t even know, like she hadn’t known the private security firm she’d hired herself worked for him as well.
The thing was… she belonged to Chris Hardy and Hardy belonged to Nathan. It was to his benefit to keep her as safe as he could, because if something happened to the young woman, he would be out an operative. Then his efforts would be all be wasted.
“We should talk again soon, Miss Lewis.”
“No offense, Nathan, but I hope not,” she replied. The screen went dark and he moved his view to the other screen, the one of her office. She leaned forward and ran her slender hands over her face. She always did that after he talked to her. Wiping away the filth, maybe?
Abigail Lewis was the least of his focus right now, though she had been quite helpful in getting the information he needed on the conspiracy surrounding her, his family’s death, and so much more. Daniel Lewis kept copies of everything, and while that had been his ultimate downfall, it was proving useful. No doubt, he’d never expected anyone to see his personal stash of blackmail material. Of course, he had probably not expected the accidental shanking during a prison riot that had led to his untimely end either. The girl had every right to hate Nathan, though she probably didn’t know it. Nathan was responsible for both her fathers’ deaths.
The young woman stood up and stretched, like she’d been at that desk for hours. Hardy spent all his off time in that Galveston house with her, these days. Nathan understood the appeal of her and really, the only reason he’d approved of her staying in contact with him was because of the information she could provide him.
You took everything from him. You can give him this. Hardy’s sister’s words pounded through his head. He closed his eyes. Maybe giving Chris his sister and his girlfriend had been a weak point. Or maybe there was a part of Nathan from before his family was killed that wasn’t completely dead. God knew, he’d give anything to be able to hold his wife again. Except
now, he was dead inside. His wife would likely not even recognize the man he’d become.
He opened his eyes again. Abigail had left the room he was watching. She was under his watch because of Hardy, yes. He’d almost lost Hardy to the oblivion of a broken heart when the man finally had done what he was told and killed off Chris Hardy to the world. While Nathan functioned just fine with a broken heart, Hardy hadn’t.
Nathan refused to concede that it was a weakness on his part. He was simply doing what needed to be done to make sure his Reapers could do their job. That was all.
Nathan had nearly convinced himself of it when the soft knock on the door broke him out of his thoughts.
9
Bea stood outside Axel’s apartment, waiting for him to come down. Why on earth she had agreed to this ridiculous day, she didn’t know, but she found herself strangely looking forward to it.
It was dangerous enough taking Axel into public, but the Jubilee grain festival was today. People would be lining the streets. Bea hoped the presence of the public would be enough to keep Genevieve and her little flunkies at bay.
She knew Genevieve. The woman didn’t like crowds. She preferred to work in shadows and private. So there Bea stood, dressed in one of her floral dresses she went to work in, with shorts on underneath and a gun in her dress pocket in case there were issues, waiting for Axel to come down the damn stairs.
When the door to his apartment opened, she let out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. He bounded down the steps, his arms curled by his side, his biceps bulging against his t-shirt. His legs flexed, the muscles defined. She’d never seen him in shorts before, but the cargo shorts he wore were loose. She could have hidden an armory in those pants if she’d wanted. All those pockets.
He paused as he turned off the stairs and finally saw her. His eyes rounded, like she’d shocked him by even being there. His smile lit up his face. “You’re here.”
“I said I would.”
He walked over to her, slow and easy, as if she might be spooked by him. Shit, maybe she was a little. Her heart was racing against her sternum as he approached. When she’d met Hardy for the changeover this morning, he’d looked worried when he’d seen her dress. But she’d reassured him it was for appearances. The truth was, she wanted to see that look that was currently on Axel’s face. The hungry one, the one that appreciated the view.
He grinned. “I’m glad you came.” He glanced down, taking in her entire outfit. “Cowboy boots?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t think high heels would be a good idea.” Plus, she had knives stashed in the boots.
“Definitely not for what I planned.”
“So, what are we doing today?”
“Fun,” he replied, taking her hand.
“What does that mean?”
He chuckled and pulled her down the sidewalk toward downtown. She glanced down the road, seeing where he was heading. “Oh, no. Axel, you wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Oh, yes, my sweet Bea. We’re going to the Jubilee annual grain festival.”
~*~*~
The loud roar of the town and the sounds of the celebration carried over the breeze as they approached the town square. It was completely decked out in every sort of bright neon color the local craft club ladies could find. Streamers and paper lanterns covered the streets, hanging from lines strung across the intersections.
Bea’s face had paled, and she’d gotten quiet. Axel knew she really didn’t hang out much in town, but they both needed fun, and this carnival was conveniently going on for the weekend.
She paused, looking out at the crowd. “I don’t know, Axel.”
“It’s going to be fine,” he said, tightening his grip on her hand. She swallowed hard. “They’re just people. It’ll be okay.”
“This isn’t what I thought…”
“Come on,” he said, pulling her up to the ticket booth. Which was really just cardboard taped to a table in the shape of a ticket booth and painted garish colors. Joann Gardner sat on a stool inside the makeshift contraption, her eagle eyes honing on them both as they stepped up in the line.
“Good morning, Axel. Beatrice.” Joann nodded uncomfortably toward Bea.
“Axel, maybe this isn’t—”
“Good morning, Joann. I need two tickets, please. Full day.”
“Sure thing,” she replied. Her gaze slipped toward Bea for a split second. Apparently, Mary Jo had been right when she’d said all the women in town were scared of Bea. Which if you looked at the surface picture was laughable. Bea was barely five feet tall and probably a hundred pounds soaking wet. But then you looked at her defined muscles, which were probably the result of years in a gym, and the haunted look of her eyes that said she’d seen some shit in her past, and one could understand their fear a little more.
Bea was so much more than what met the eyes on the surface. It was part of his attraction to her. It was part of what made him want to get know her.
“Here you go, hon,” Joann said, holding out their tickets. She tucked the other halves of them into a jar. “Everyone goes into the door prize bucket for the end of the day raffles.” She smiled at the two of them, all indications of her uncomfortableness around Bea gone. “Y’all have fun now.”
“We will,” Axel promised as he handed Bea’s ticket to her. She glanced down at it as they walked into the town square. “Want me to hold it for you?”
She shook her head. “I got it.” She shoved it into a pocket he’d not noticed on her dress. It had blended in with the folds of the skirt. Handy and useful. Why didn’t all dresses come with pockets like that?
They walked along the road, taking in the different booths until they came to the one with the bowling pin targets. At least they looked like bowling pins.
Bob Gardner stood behind the booth, shooting off carnival speak like he’d been born into the life. “Step right up, folks! Try your hand at the top prize!”
Axel grinned at her. “Want to try?”
“I’m good,” she said as Axel stepped up to the booth and handed Bob a couple of dollars.
“Her, too,” he replied when Bob handed him the plastic shotgun.
“Come on, pretty lady,” Bob encouraged as he held out another plastic gun.
She shook her head. “Really, I’m good.”
“No, we both need some fun. Come on,” Axel said, pulling her by the hand up to the booth. He took aim and fired four foam bullets into the targets. Two fell over. He frowned. “Are those real bowling pins?”
“Your turn, my lady,” Bob said, gesturing toward her set of targets.
“I really don’t think—”
“Please?” Axel grinned. “Come on.”
She sighed and lifted the Nerf gun. One by one, she fired toward the bowling pin, then reset the thing to fire again. Four foam bullets later, her bowling pins were on the ground. She handed the thing back to Bob. “That was kind of fun.”
“Try again?” Bob asked Axel.
“Sure,” Axel said, handing over another couple of bucks. He took his Nerf gun and tried again, but only three hit their target. Then Bob handed Bea hers, and again, she shot all four of hers down. He frowned. “Is this rigged to make me look stupid?”
“Can’t stand to have a woman outshoot you?” Bea asked, the corner of her mouth twitching upward like she was more than just amused. “I thought you’d be more progressive, Mr. Martinez.”
“Double or nothing. I hit all those targets this time, and you give me a kiss.”
“How is that double? I didn’t get anything for beating you twice,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. The action pushed her breasts together, which shot life into his cock. He nearly groaned out loud but fought the urge.
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know yet. I have to think about that,” she replied, putting a finger to her rosy lips like she was in deep thought.
“Fine,” he said. “You think, I’ll shoot, and then I want a kiss.”
He lifted the plastic contraption again, focused on the target. The foam bullets were bottom heavy, so they’d list some and fall hard. The wind was almost nonexistent but there was a slight breeze coming in from the east, so he’d need to adjust just slightly to the right. He frowned, blocked out everything around him, and fired.
The first shot hit towards the right a little bit too much, but the target fell anyway. He adjusted for the next shot, but it was a little too high and the pin teetered before it fell. He adjusted again and the last two shots were dead center.
He turned toward Bea, triumphant. “A deal is a deal.”
“A kiss it is,” she replied. She lifted up on her tiptoes, her body pressing against his. Her warmth surrounded him like a soft blanket as she rested her hands on his shoulders. As she got closer, he tilted his head to kiss her, but then she veered toward the left and her lips planted a soft peck on his cheek before she stepped out of his arms.
“That’s not a kiss,” he complained.
“You didn’t specify what kind,” she replied, smiling.
“That’s dirty,” he shot back. “What do you want for your two wins?”
She shrugged as she turned away from the Nerf gun booth. “I’m still thinking. I’ll let you know.” She glanced around as they walked through the square. “Now what do you want to do?”
“More fun,” he replied, simply.
“Does it involve me beating you at children’s games again?” She asked.
He growled. “One game. I’ll get you on the next one.” She laughed, a beautiful, melodic sound he’d never really heard from her before. It was so at odds with her regular vibe, which had no appearance at the moment. She was almost a different person. More normal. Less scary, like this was who she was meant to be once upon a time.
He was really starting to like this Bea. Even if she could shoot Nerf guns better than him.
~*~*~
Nathan glanced up as the door squeaked open. Bridget poked her head in. “I need your signature on some things, sir.”
He nodded as she entered, clutching her tablet to her chest. He hadn’t seen her since the night before. He wasn’t sure how to deal with her right then. They’d never fought like that, she’d never yelled at him or demanded information he couldn’t give her.
