I alternated glances between them and then looked at Navarro. “You know. You four look like quintuplets. With your jeans, boots, white tee shirts, and little leather vests, you could pass for four brothers. You should move to Detroit and start a boy band. You could come up with a catchy name, like, The Front Street Boys, or Old Kids on the Block. Might be a way to make a living without getting shot at. You’d all have to get matching haircuts, though. And some powder blue tuxedos. You’d look good in baby blue, Navarro. You know, with those eyes.”
Navarro’s eyes thinned to slits. “There a reason you’re here, detective?”
I gave a nod. “Matter of fact, there is.”
“Mind sharing it? I’m thinking if you stay much longer, P-Nut might develop a rash. He’s allergic to cops.”
I looked at the baseball card collector. He looked like he was ready to choke me out.
“Looks like he’s got to take a shit, if you ask me.” I said as I eyed him. “If you need to take a dump, go ahead. I just need to talk to Navarro.”
With a shaking hand, he removed a cigarette from his pack and lit it. After blowing a cloud of smoke in my direction, he shot me a laser sharp glare.
“I think he’s pissed,” I said as I turned toward Navarro.
“I’ll add him to the list,” Navarro said. “The longer you stay, the longer it gets.”
“Want to take a walk?” I asked.
I knew he wouldn’t, and preferred he didn’t. I wanted the four men to all hear what I had to say. I was certain it was the only way my plan would work.
“You got anything to say, every man here can hear it.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and spit on the concrete at my side. After meeting Navarro’s gaze, I let out a long sigh.
“Fine. MS-13 tagged a building in Vista, and three days later, they slit the throat of the paint shop owner, his nephew, and his brother when he didn’t give up the building to them. In El Cajon, they tagged an old warehouse, and three days later they shot the owner and his wife when they didn’t relinquish the building. In Chula Vista, there was a similar incident, where they--”
“I’m not giving up this building to them, or anyone else for that matter.”
I inhaled a long breath through my nose, tilted my head toward the sky, and exhaled. “Well.” I met his stare. “My only advice is that you better be ready to fight like your life depends on it.”
I looked at each of them. “Each one of you. Like your fucking life depends on it. These guys won’t stop at killing you. They’ll slaughter your wives, kids, and anyone else who gets in their way. No member of your club is safe. You owe it to them to let them know what I said, too. If you care about them as brothers, that is.”
The four men stared back at me with tightened jaws and clenched fists. The incidents I’d just cited were all fabricated lies intended to get the men to react promptly. By the looks on their faces, it looked like my plan was working.
I turned toward the car, took a few steps, and then glanced over my shoulder. “How long ago did they tag this place, anyway?”
Navarro glared at me. “Yesterday.”
“Looks like you’ve got ‘till tomorrow to move out. If you’re staying, I’d say you better be good at finding ghosts. These guys aren’t easy to locate.”
“You worry about handing out parking tickets and trading kids lollipops for hand jobs,” Navarro said, his voice thick with sarcasm. “We’ll worry about finding La Mara Salvatrucha.”
At least he’d done his homework. It was further proof that he planned on doing what I wanted him to do. I took another step toward my car and then turned around.
“Mind if I use your pisser?” I asked. “My bladder’s about to bust?”
Navarro spit out a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding?”
I shook my head and exhaled heavily. “We have our morning meetings at Dunkin Donuts. I must have chased my dozen donuts down with too many cups of coffee.”
“Piss at the corner of the building,” he said.
“Inside?”
“Fuck no.” He tilted his head toward Pee Bee. “Right over there.”
“Against the law. No can do, Navarro.”
“Motherfucker,” he growled. “Take this donut eating piece of shit to the bathroom, Pee Bee. Keep an eye on his ass, too.”
“Got it, Boss.”
After following Pee Bee to the bathroom, I pissed, and washed my hands. Next, I removed my wallet, and then put it back into my left pocket, but only half way. Last, I removed the micro GPS locator from my pocket and palmed it in my right hand.
Fitted with a series of four high-powered magnets, it would stay affixed to anything made of metal. Attaching it to Pee Bee’s bike wouldn’t be too difficult, because, as always, the men’s bikes were parked inside the clubhouse. It was apparently one of Navarro’s pet peeves – he didn’t like the public to know who was there, or how long they stayed.
On our way out of the building, I sauntered toward Pee Bee’s motorcycle. After looking it over from a distance, I whistled admiringly. “Damn. I thought you wrecked that thing a while back?”
“Got it fixed,” he said.
“Paint looks better than new,” I said. “Mind if I take a look? I need to paint my Heritage.”
“Don’t touch the motherfucker,” he grumbled.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
I stepped within a foot or so of the bike, admired the paint, and then turned toward him. “Who painted it?”
“Place called Rudy’s. On fifth.”
“Know the place you’re talking about. They sure did a good job on this fucker, that’s for sure. I’ll give ‘em a visit.”
I crouched in front of the bike, and using my left hand, forced the wallet from my left pocket. As it hit the floor, Pee Bee’s eyes shot to it.
He nodded toward my wallet. “Dropped your wallet.”
As I stood, I slipped my hand under his right fender. At the same time the magnets snapped into place, I faked a sneeze.
“Appreciate it,” I said.
When combined with the GPS I’d already placed on Meathead’s motorcycle while he fucked a stripper’s brains out, I knew I’d be able to determine when the club was making a move. Satisfied I’d done all that I was able, I picked up the wallet.
After offering Pee Bee a nod of appreciation, I turned toward the door, and then shoved the wallet into my pocket. “Hope you fellas get this misunderstanding with MS-13 ironed out.”
“Nothing to misunderstand,” he said. “This place is ours, and it’s staying that way.”
“For what it’s worth, this is the same bunch of lunatics that kidnapped those girls you fellas saved a few months back. Same assholes that kidnapped your boxer, too. What’s his name?” I glanced at Pee Bee. “Cholo?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said dryly.
“Oh. Yeah. Right. Forgot. Code of silence. Gotcha.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t.”
I stepped through the overhead door, and up to my car. After getting in, I leaned out the window and gave a nod toward each of the men.
“Navarro, Peanut Butter, P-Nut, Smokey. I’ll say a prayer for you.”
“Don’t bother,” Navarro growled. “God forgot about us long ago. Have a nice day, detective.”
I smiled to myself. “I’ll do just that.”
Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-One
Taryn – Day twenty-four
Marc sat on the couch clenching his phone in his hand. His eyes were fixed on the floor, and had been for quite a while. It seemed he’d had very little desire to communicate all day, only responding to questions I’d asked or giving an opinion about a topic I’d brought up.
Left alone, he seemed to prefer being quiet. He wasn’t sulking, but he certainly wasn’t outspoken or jovial, either. He’d carried his phone with him all day, and laid it beside his plate at dinner. Now that it was approaching midnig
ht, and he was still gripping it like was his life support system, I was worried that he may need to leave at any minute.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
His eyes remained fixed on the section of floor between us. “Just fine.”
Sitting at my customary spot on the loveseat, I pushed myself away from the cushion and stood. “You don’t seem fine.”
He glanced at his watch, and then looked up. “I have a case that is time sensitive. It’s currently out of my control, and I wish it wasn’t.”
I took a few steps in his direction. I knew better than to ask him about the case, but hoped he could find a way to allow himself to forget it for a while. I didn’t envy what it was he had to do over the course of his daily activities. Knowing he had to keep all the information – good and bad – a secret caused me to be even more sympathetic.
He resembled my father when my sister went on her first date, only my father wasn’t clutching a cell phone.
He’d paced the floor most of the night, and eventually gave up. Sitting at his normal spot on the couch with his head hung low, he stared at the floor, waiting for my sister to get home. She got home thirty minutes late.
When she came through the door, his face transformed from one of worry to sheer elation. I’ll never forget how nice it was to see him discard his concern.
I wanted Marc to do the same, but realized I had no control over how he felt. I had no idea what level of comfort I could provide him, but whatever I was able to give, I wanted to make sure he got.
I sat on his left side. After receiving no objection, I placed my hand on his thigh. He glanced at me, gave a half-assed smile, and then looked away.
It pained me to see him in such a state. “Are you hungry?”
He lifted his head and looked around. “No. Just…I don’t know. Just worried a little.”
“You can’t talk about it, can you?”
He shook his head. “Sorry.”
I rubbed his leg. “I understand.”
He glanced at my hand, and then at me. A slight smile came to his face. “Thank you.”
“Do you want me to go ahead and go?”
“No. Not at all.” He sighed and then looked at me. “I’ve been hoping to hear something all evening, but if I don’t here before long, it probably won’t come until tomorrow.”
“Okay. Well, I hope it comes soon.”
His gaze dropped to the floor. “Sorry to ruin your day off.”
“You haven’t ruined anything. I just hate seeing you stressed out. I care about you. I like you. A lot.”
How we felt was something we hadn’t discussed, and I expected it was off limits. At least until the thirty days were up. I simply wanted him to know that I wasn’t sitting there out of a feeling of necessity.
I was there because I cared.
He draped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close. As our shoulders touched, he chuckled. “I like you too.”
It wasn’t much, but hearing it did wonders for my ego. I hoped it was an indication of what was to come when we reached the thirty-day mark, but wasn’t about to press him for how he felt about me, especially considering his current state of mind.
“If the call comes, are you going to have to leave?” I asked.
“I’m afraid so,” he said. “But I’d like it if you could stay here. While I’m gone.”
It was a few minutes before midnight. If he left for any amount of time, it would be close to morning before he returned.
“Stay all night?” I asked, trying to hide the hope that had quickly filled me.
“If you want.”
I grinned. “I’d love to.”
“Why don’t you plan on it. You can wear a pair of my sweats and I’ll give you a tee shirt.”
I wanted to wear a pair of sweats he’d already worn, so I could smell his scent, his cologne, him. Lying in bed surrounded by his aroma would satisfy me to no end.
“Give me something you’ve already worn, so I can smell you. I love the way you smell,” I said with a light laugh, although it was far from a joke.
“Everything I own is clean.” He chuckled. “I’ve got a few hang-ups about dirty clothes, too.”
My dirty clothes piled up until I had nothing to wear. By the time I washed them, it was as if I’d purchased a new wardrobe, because there were always a few things I found that I’d forgotten I owned.
“That’s okay. You can just give me what you’ve got on.” I slid my hand inside his leg, and rubbed his inner thigh as if I were joking. In doing so, the back side of my hand brushed against something other than leg.
My eyes shot to his lap.
Stefanie was wrong. March Watson did not have a two-inch uncircumcised dick. From my vantage point, it appeared he had an extremely thick eight-inch cock.
An extremely thick eight-inch cock that liked having my hand bump into it.
I paused, and then decided what the hell. I wasn’t a character in a YA novel, nor was I a prude. We were two adults in a fucked-up relationship that excluded sex. By Marc’s own admission, however, it did not prohibit sexual contact.
I was done waiting for him to make a move.
I decided to get a handful of his dick. If he didn’t like it, he could either ask me to stop or stand up and give me the what the fuck were you thinking look.
I slid my hand over his rigid manhood.
Holy. Shit.
Hiding my excitement required looking away, so that’s exactly what I did. In recognition of what my hand was filled with, I opened my mouth – and my eyes – wide.
I received no opposition. So, I squeezed it.
It twitched in response.
I stroked my hand along its length. Twice.
Still no opposition.
I knew not to try and overstep boundaries, even if they weren’t etched in stone. His cock was as hard as a rock, and so far, I’d bumped it by mistake, squeezed it on purpose, and stroked it twice.
If he wasn’t pleased, I suspected he would have either objected, or he wouldn’t have been hard in the first place.
I shifted my attention from the wall to him. “I want to suck your dick,” I whispered.
The words came out much easier than I expected.
He glanced at my cock-filled hand, and then at me. His mouth was twisted into a guilty smirk. He may have wanted to protest, but his cock was providing a solid argument to the contrary. I squeezed it firmly. He let out a long, slow sigh at the feeling of having his thick girth in my hand.
He clenched his teeth and tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know if--”
“I won’t make a mess, I swear,” I blurted.
My guess was that me drooling cum on his clean floor was his only major concern. I had no intention of any such ridiculousness. Anxiously, I sat and waited for his approval.
“If you insist.” He checked his watch and then exhaled heavily. “Take it easy on me, though.”
I hopped off the edge of the couch cushion like I was preparing to run from a fiery inferno, and dropped to a kneeling position in front of him. I had no intention of going easy on him, but I didn’t want him to know it.
I wanted to curl his toes. I looked up and him with innocent eyes, and gave indication of the complete opposite. “If you don’t like it, you can stop me.”
He reached for his belt. “I doubt that’ll happen.”
I inched toward the edge of the couch with my eyes fixed on his hands. In a matter of seconds, his rigid cock sprung free.
Holy shit.
It was gorgeous.
I reached for it, looking at him for approval the entire time. As I gripped it in my hand, I giggled silently. It was thick, and hard, and smooth, and…
Perfect.
I yearned to have him fill me with it, but only when – and if – he felt it was what best for us both. For the time being, sucking it would satisfy me, and I hoped it would satisfy him.
I gently stroked it, allowing my eyes to rake along his body as I di
d so. When they reached his lap, I grinned. The size of his thickness made my hand appear to be so small and delicate. I stretched my jaw and prepared for what was sure to be a workout.
Air shot from his lungs as I encompassed the tip with my wet lips. Hearing his surprise fueled me to continue, and I did so with vigor.
He drew a quick breath and tilted his head back. While his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, I forced him deep into my throat. With each upward stroke of my wet mouth, I jacked the glistening shaft with my hand.
Up and down I bobbed my head, stretching my jaw to accept his girth fully. With my eyes searching for approval, I sucked his glorious cock like it was my last chance at salvaging our relationship.
The muscles in his biceps tensed. My eyes darted to his hands. Gripping the edge of the couch so fiercely that his knuckles had gone white, they gave warning that he either really liked having his cock banging against the back of my throat, or he really hated it.
My belief was the former.
I pulled away, wiped my mouth with the tip of my finger, and then dragged it across my bottom lip.
“What do you like?” I asked, my voice as sultry as I could manage.
“It seems to me like you already know.”
I didn’t want to satisfy him, I wanted to blow his mind.
“Do you prefer it aggressive?” I asked.
“I do.”
“Me too.” I smiled. “Fuck my mouth.”
His eyes widened slightly. Then, for the first time of that night, his mouth curled into a genuine smile.
Apparently, I’d discovered something we both enjoyed.
He drew a shallow breath. “Maybe we should--”
“Get ahold of my head. And. Fuck. My. Mouth.” I grinned. “Hard, Please.”
He stood. His cock danced up and down in front of my face. I wondered for an instant if he would lightly hold my head and row in and out of my mouth slowly and methodically. Or, if he would press himself deep into my throat and hold himself firmly in place.
I hoped he would do just as I asked, and pound his cock in and out of my mouth like he was trying to teach me a lesson. Struggling to breathe through my nose, and wiping my watering eyes so I could see the satisfaction on his face, I would wait until I was on the verge of passing out before I’d pull away and suck in a breath.
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