Guns Will Keep Us Together

by Leslie Langtry

  Leonie guided my body into hers, and I felt a surge of crushing emotion. What was this? It was as if all my organs has swollen up with helium, and I was about to take flight.

  Oh my God. I had to stop this. I had to channel George Clooney instead of Woody Allen. That very idea turned it around.

  I started to take control of the situation, like I used to. From my position on top, I kissed her lips, then her chin, slipping down to the lovely notch of her long, pale throat. Leonie sighed, and I became bolder. I wanted to make this night memorable, not come across as a bungling fool.

  My lips sought the cleft between her perfect, small breasts, and I nuzzled each nipple until she moaned beneath me. It felt so good to make her feel good—something I'd never noticed before. Cupping her shapely ass, I found her sweet spot. It only took a few moments to make her come, and it was so good for her, it felt like I'd climaxed too.

  Leonie flipped me over, climbing on top, and once I was inside her, she began to rock back and forth, never taking her eyes off of mine. I winced as I realized I'd never thought of my past lovers as people. Shoving that aside, I closed my eyes against the intensity of her gaze before my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave.

  I felt so terrified and wonderful, I started to cry. Yup. You heard me.

  The more I tried to stop, the faster the tears came. I lay there, on my back, arms around Leonie—whose hair covered my chest, and wept. The intensity of what happened stunned me. And I didn't know what the hell to do.

  Fortunately, Leonie fell asleep, and I just lay there, wondering what was happening.

  The deep, homey tang of bacon teased me awake. I was naked and alone in bed, but someone was making breakfast. This I understood—recognizing the smell of meat and knowing that a woman was here.

  I reached for my robe, but it was gone. After fumbling in my drawers for pajamas, I wandered into the hall toward the kitchen.

  "'Morning!" Leonie called out brightly as she flipped the eggs and bacon simmering in front of her. My robe hung from her slight frame, but it looked incredibly beautiful against her pale skin. She resembled a china doll dressed up in silk.

  "Hey." I kissed her awkwardly and poured a cup of coffee. "How long have you been up?"

  I've never been good at the morning-after thingy. In fact, unless there was an opportunity for follow-up sex, I usually rushed them through the shower and out the door so I could get on with the next conquest. But this morning was different. This morning, I wanted her to stay.

  "Not long. I was hungry. I hope you don't mind." She pushed a spiral strand of copper curls from her forehead.

  "Of course not. I love having you here." Oh my God. It was true. I wanted her here for more than sex! Well, that and she was making bacon. Show me a man who'd turn that down.

  "Your family is amazing," Leonie said as she brought two plates to the table and sat down to eat. "Especially Louis."

  I grinned. "Yeah. He's pretty adorable."

  "I love your sister and cousin. Gin? And Liv? Is her name really Gin Bombay?" She giggled, giving me goose bumps.

  "It's really Virginia or Ginny. But we pretty much shortened it to Gin over the years. It's much funnier that way."

  Leonie paused, holding her coffee cup. "I have a question that I hope doesn't offend you." She waited for me to nod before continuing. "It's just that I noticed you introduced Gin's husband as Diego Bombay. Isn't that your name too?"

  Well, at least she didn't say anything about the dagger-throwing competition at the barbeque, or why there's a huge keypad in the kitchen locking up Gin's basement. This was one of the Bombay family quirks I could clue her in on.

  "It's a weird little requirement in my family. If you marry a Bombay woman, you have to take her name. It's been that way since 2000 B.C. None of the men seem to mind." I shrugged, "I guess I never really thought about it before."

  Leonie held my gaze for a moment. "Well, I think it's really cool. Apparently your family is more progressive than most."

  Yeah. We were progressive all right. As long as if you mean by progressive that we kill people we don't know for money. "So, you got along with everyone?" That was a weird question. Like I was interviewing her for a job.

  "I did. They are really terrific. You are so lucky."

  I sat back as she took a few bites of her breakfast. I guess she was right. I usually did think I was lucky to be born rich and unfairly attractive. I just never associated the word luck with my family before.

  "And your son, Louis, I adore him!" Leonie giggled. "I've never met a kid like that before."

  "Yeah. If it wasn't for the DNA test, I'd think he wasn't related to me at all." Oops.

  Leonie arched her right eyebrow. "DNA test?" Uh-oh.

  I sighed and told her everything about my short acquaintance with my son. For some reason, I told her everything, warts and all. I didn't even try to make myself sound better. I made a mental note to make an appointment with a neurologist tomorrow.

  "Wow," she said softly. "That's a lot for a little kid to handle."

  I nodded and realized that for once in my life, I was agreeing with her instead of saying, "What about me? It was tough for me too!"

  "And the family made you take the test? That's pretty cold."

  "Well, it's really my grandmother who pushed for it. I did it just to keep her happy. I knew Louis was mine." Or at least, I wanted to believe Louis was mine.

  "So, fill me in on everyone. What they do, what they're like, that kind of thing," Leonie said as she curled her legs up under her. I launched head first into a panic attack. According to custom (which was strictly enforced), Bombays didn't tell their spouse about the family until after they were married and before the first family reunion.

  "Enough about my family—how about you? What's your family like?" Oooh. Smooth.

  Leonie considered my question for a moment as she chewed the last of her bacon. "Well, I guess you'd say we're a bit unconventional."

  Unconventional? I thought I had the market cornered on that.

  "Oh yeah," I remembered, "the family funeral home. You must have had an unusual childhood."

  "It was. But for some, morbid reason, I likeed it. We grew up with a strange sense of gallows humor. My dad's brother is also in the business. We have the largest funeral home in the state, back home."

  I reached for the toast. "So, why did you want to break out on your own?" Was that too personal?

  She shrugged, "I don't know. I guess I'm just kind of different from the rest of the family. They're more traditional. I never really fit in." She popped some more eggs into her mouth, and I got the impression that this line of conversation was over.

  We spent the rest of breakfast talking about mundane things. The conversation wasn't memorable, but it had such an overwhelming sense of wonder to it.

  While she was in the shower, I thought about everything. The way she made me feel—like I'd known her forever. The surge of emotion when we made love. How easily she fit in with my family. How much she loved my son. What started as a rush, slowly became a panic. By the time we were dressed, I was beginning to sweat again. Mental note—check the thermostat to see if it's set for "hell."

  "I'm sorry, Dak," Leonie said with a frown, "I just got a call from the funeral home. Can you take me back to my car?"

  I expelled a huge sigh of relief. For some reason, I wanted her to go and stay at the same time. But I needed time to get my head together. I parked in front of my sister's house and walked Leonie to her car. She kissed me and winked as she jumped in and drove away.

  I don't know how long I stood there on Gin's front lawn, staring after Leonie. I'm pretty sure it was a while, and that I would still be standing there, had Louis not tackled me from behind. Gin waved me into the kitchen.

  "Are you okay, mate?" Diego handed me a Diet Coke, and I nodded.

  Gin was twittering nonstop about how wonderful Leonie was. I just sat there, mired in confusion. She didn't seem to notice.

  "What i
s wrong with you?" Gin finally sat down next to me at the kitchen table.

  "Huh? What do you mean?" I felt unstable. Kind of like I was homesick for…what?

  "You haven't said a word." Gin frowned. "Oh no! You're not breaking up with Leonie!"

  "What?" I jumped. "No! I'm just, just a bit overwhelmed right now."

  Diego nodded, "That makes sense. You got a new son, a big job from the Council and a new girlfriend. That's a lot to deal with."

  I looked at him. He was right. There was a lot on my plate. All of it was good individually, but together they twisted my insides mercilessly.

  "At least the E.D. problem is over." Maybe that was one less thing to worry about.

  "So why were you standing on my lawn for twenty-five minutes this morning, watching the road?" Gin grinned.

  "You've got it bad, my friend," Diego said softly.

  I looked at him. Diego understood, probably more than I did. Last night felt like a triumph and a disaster at the same time. I had the feeling that a huge tidal wave was about to crush me at any second. And for a moment…just a moment, I thought it might be a good idea if it did.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  "It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine."

  ~R.E.M.

  I know this is going to sound stupid, but I spent the rest of the day feeling really, really bad and really, really good at the same time. Gin and Diego kept me company in the backyard while we watched Louis and Romi play. No one spoke, which was good, because I had no idea what to say.

  For the moment, I was hung up on the fact that I cried during sex. What did that mean? Shouldn't I just be grateful I was able to have an orgasm? But the idea of tears streaming down my face made me feel vulnerable and lost. Gin watched me with some interest. Every time she started to speak, Diego shushed her. He's a good man.

  Was I in love with Leonie? Oh my God. What was happening to me? Maybe I wasn't in love with her. Now, that thought hurt more.

  I sat there for hours like that. Gin fed me lunch, then supper, then asked if I was spending the night. I looked at her like she was speaking Swahili.

  "Let's go home, Dad." Louis tugged on my sleeve. "Survivor is on, and we need to order pizza."

  Oh, right. Our little ritual. Yes. We should do that. As we walked out the door, I had another panic attack. I had a weekly ritual. With my son!

  "You know what, Dad?" Louis looked at me very seriously, and I tried not to smile at the pizza sauce smeared on his chin.

  "What's that?" I wiped his face then pulled him a little closer.

  "Well," he started, "I think we need to spend more time together." Louis raised his small hands to protest the words he thought would come—and if I wasn't so shocked, I might have said something. "I mean, I know my arrival was inconvenient and that you have consulting work to do and all, but I can see that you and Leonie are getting serious, and I want to make sure you and I get to know each other too."

  I sat there for a while, speechless. My son had just told me he wanted to be with me. And while that should've made me feel great, he also said his arrival in my life was inconvenient and that he wanted to be as important as Leonie was. The sheer weight of this six-year-old's words crushed me like an aluminum can.

  "Louis." I licked my lips to stall for time. "You are very important to me. You are never, and never will be, inconvenient. I'm sorry I made you feel like that." I was starting to get a little choked up.

  "Leonie is important to me, but you are my son. Nothing in my life will ever be as important as you are. Do you understand that?" Hell! Did I understand what I was saying? All at once, I felt ashamed of the way I'd been acting all day. I practically ignored my own kid for a pity fest.

  Louis scrutinized my face. My heart started to twist, thinking that he was trying to figure out if what I said was bullshit or not. Before I could say anything else, Louis burrowed onto my lap and sighed.

  I held him for a long time. Damn. This kid had been through a lot. And here we start to get closer, and I dump him on Mom and Gin every day. No wonder he considered himself inconvenient.

  After a while, I realized he was asleep. As I picked him up and carried him to bed, I could feel his little heart beating. My son's heart had been broken when his mom died. Hell, he was probably scared to death when they brought him to me. I needed to prove to Louis that he came first and foremost. And this was probably the first time in my life that someone else did.

  "You did what?" Paris chose to respond to my confession in a less sensitive way than I had hoped. All I could do was nod. I told him about Leonie hoping for advice. I wasn't ready to talk about Louis yet.

  He sat back with a stunned look on his face. "Damn. Damn," was all he could say.

  "I know. I don't know why I reacted like that." And I was feeling more than a little defensive.

  "You've got it bad, man." Paris shook his head, but I noticed he didn't try to stifle a grin. Bastard.

  "Can we just move on? What did you find out about the next guy on the list?" I wasn't just stalling. We needed to change the subject and get a move on. Our two weeks were almost out, and we'd only knocked off two of the five National Resources assassins.

  Paris nodded, turning back to his laptop, "His name is Garth Stone, and he works at Disney World. He's completely evil. He once hit a kid so his parents, in their grief, would sell their company to a conglomerate. I can't wait to get a crack at this asshole."

  I swore under my breath, thinking about Louis. This bastard was going down as hard as possible.

  "He plays Mickey Mouse at the Magic Kingdom, six days a week," Paris continued.

  I nodded, "Okay. We can do that. It's hard to see or hear in those costumes. We should be able to get the jump on him."

  Paris looked at me as if I had sprouted two heads. "And just how do we kill Mickey Mouse in front of hundreds of kids?"

  "I didn't say the plan was perfect. I just said the opportunity was better." He had a point. I didn't really want to scar the memories of a bunch of children as they watched Mickey Mouse spray blood all over them like a nightmarish lawn sprinkler.

  "I've looked at a map of the Magic Kingdom. There's only one entrance and exit." Paris pointed at the map he placed in front of me. "And a lot of witnesses. We will also have to figure out disguises, because two thirty-year old men in suits would stand out."

  "Don't they have one of those Gay and Lesbian Days there?" I asked. Paris shot me a look. "Okay, how about we go as Japanese tourists?"

  Paris rolled his eyes, "Great. We're either homosexual lovers, or we have to completely modify our physical features to look Asian." He tossed his hands up in the air. "I don't see how we can do it outside of finding out what his day off is."

  I thought about that (mainly because it was better than thinking about my other problems). Figuring out his day off was too risky. There was no way to know when it would be and how we would find him. Great. We know who he is and where he is. We just can't get to him. I examined the map. It was a long way from Toontown, where the soon-to-be-deceased Mickey signed autographs, and the exit.

  My cell phone started to ring, and I panicked for a moment, hoping it wasn't Leonie. I'd called her the next morning (Hey, I'm not a total cad!), and we made tentative plans to take Louis out for pizza tonight (and I know what you're thinking—pizza two nights in a row, but we'll order it with vegetables). But I was still scared of her and the way she made me feel.

  Whew. Just Gin. I answered.

  "Hey, Dak," Gin said breathlessly. "Now that you have a kid and since next week is spring break, I thought we could do something together with Liv. What do you think?"

  I looked at Paris with a slow smile, "Sure," I answered. "I know exactly what we should do."

  Within an hour, Paris had made all the arrangements for a Bombay Family trip to Disney World. We had hotel accommodations at the Contemporary for four days, Park Hopper passes, flights and everything. Gin, Diego, Romi, Me, Louis, Paris, Liv, Todd, Alta and Woody would
all go.

  "So," Paris asked as he confirmed all the reservations, "Are we telling our sisters why we're really going?"

  I shook my head. "They'd be pissed and try to stop us. Besides, Gin thinks I'm acting like a real dad now. I'd hate to ruin that for her."

  "Well, we leave in a few days. I think we should knock out the Ohio zookeeper before we go so we can at least report three of the five kills to the Council."

  "That's a good idea," I said.

  "Let's go now—we can be there in about eight hours."

  I shook my head. "Can't. My priorities are to Louis first, and tonight I promised him pizza."

  Which is how Paris and I came to be in his car, on the interstate to Tinker, Ohio, early the next morning. Gin was thrilled with the spring break plans and happily agreed to take Louis for a few days. I had the strong suspicion that by the time I got back, Gin and Liv would have cleaned the Disney Store in the mall out of clothing for all four kids.

  I felt awful, leaving Louis again—especially after our recent man-to-man. Before dropping him off, I promised that this would be the last time I had to leave him for a while. And I intended to make good on that.

  Tinker, Ohio was twenty miles north of Columbus. A small town with its own zoo. And yes, we checked, they had bears. I patted the box with Missi's death-by-bear kit.

  About ninety miles away from our destination, my cell rang. I looked at Paris and answered it.

  "Hey, Dela," I used my most charming tone.

  "Cut the charisma, Dak. What's your status?"

  Man. She wasn't buying it. Okay, fine. "Good. We've taken care of the dentist, the speaker, and by this time tomorrow, the zookeeper. The next one is now a cast member at Disney World so we're going there next week to take care of him. That just leaves the last one."