Wicked Nights

by A. D. Justice

  Inevitably, one or two women always emerged at the precise moment Rebel arrived home and at least one needed help with something that she couldn’t handle on her own.

  “Can you open this jar for me? You’re so strong,” Turan mocked in an unusually high-pitched voice. “I’ll just die if I can’t eat this specific pickle right now.”

  Envy consumed him inside from watching the scene play out in front of his eyes. He imitated Duke’s owner when she called out for Rebel’s help next. “Oh, please, Mr. Muscle Head, my car won’t start because I disconnected the battery cable when you weren’t looking. Pay attention to me.”

  Duke cut his eyes up at him and quickly looked away. He laughed at his initial thought. “You’re embarrassed to be seen with me? You should be embarrassed because of your owner. Look at her. She’s pathetic.”

  Duke seemed to roll his little dog eyes, at least in Turan’s mind. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. I know what you’re thinking. I am not jealous that she rushes outside for two seconds with him but won’t even look at me.”

  Duke grumbled and began to walk, pulling Turan with him. They walked around the opposite end of the complex with Turan suddenly feeling superior when he realized that Rebel wasn’t even aware of his presence. He isn’t as smart and cunning as he thinks he is, Turan thought.

  When Rebel finally tore himself away from his adoring fans, Turan took Duke home and purposely tried to flirt with his owner. “Hello, Greta. That color is very flattering on you.”

  “Thank you so much for walking him. He gets so bored inside.” She dismissed him. “Same time tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” he replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  “Good night,” she called absently over her shoulder before she closed her door.

  He walked to his car parked behind the apartment buildings and climbed in. He closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him. The next day, he sat outside a local café and used the free Wi-Fi to get back into the deep web. After he found his contact, he agreed to take the contract on Rebel.

  Turan’s suspicions were still high, even after verifying the validity of the man who hired him. He continued to walk the dogs in the complex and used the time monitoring Rebel’s habits to his advantage. The day he decided to make his move, he napped in his car until darkness completely enveloped the area. There was no point in even trying to access Rebel’s apartment until long after sundown with the numerous people coming and going. He laid his seat back and rested his eyes, his imagination on overdrive as he planned his exact route in his mind.

  When the parking lot became quiet, Turan ensured the dome light was off before he eased out of his car. He softly closed his car door, careful to not make any loud noises that would draw attention to him. “This is one time that I actually want to be invisible,” he muttered.

  The spacious ground-floor apartments each had a back door and a small patio area. The upper-level apartments had decks, but each level was staggered so that everyone had ample access to the Florida sunshine. He moved stealthily behind the buildings until he stood on Rebel’s terrace and peered into his kitchen window. Rebel walked to the pantry, retrieved a bag of popcorn, and threw it in the microwave. Then he pulled a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator and popped the top.

  He moved around in the small kitchen with ease as he cleaned up after himself. Within minutes, everything had been put in its place and the counters were tidied. Rebel grabbed the popcorn and walked back toward the living room. Turan’s eyes never left Rebel’s form as he walked away. His smile covered his face when he felt that sense of pride return to him. Rebel didn’t know he was even there.

  I was staring him down and he never even knew, Turan thought.

  His original plan to kill Rebel sooner rather than later morphed into a competition in Turan’s mind. A competition that Rebel didn’t even know he was in. Turan decided he’d test Rebel daily to see how far he could push the limits, how far his superiority would take him. He stepped closer to the back door and gripped the knob in his palm. He slowly turned it, testing it, and found it was locked, but the door opened when he pushed it. Even to his keen eyes, it appeared to be solidly closed.

  A faulty lock, Rebel? So careless, he thought smugly.

  He stepped into the kitchen and strained his ears to listen over the sound of the TV for any sign that Rebel was aware of his presence. After sixty long seconds of nothingness, he carefully placed one foot in front of the other until he reached the doorway to the living area. He’d looked in the front windows while walking the dogs over the past week, so he already knew that Rebel’s back would be toward him.

  Rebel laughed out loud at the comedian standing center stage. He held a ventriloquist’s dummy dressed up as a terrorist and another doll that looked like an angry old man. The comedian and the two dummies exchanged insults, each in their own voice, and interacted as if a conversation were actually taking place. Turan became distracted by the comedian’s show until Rebel’s laughter jarred him out of his trance.

  He slowly backed away from the entryway and made his way back to the door leading to the patio. Before he left Rebel’s kitchen, he memorized everything about the room. His masculine touches around the room brought life to it, made it feel lived-in. He pictured a room full of friends and loved ones gathered around Rebel, laughing and having a good time. The same as when he got home from work, Rebel was the center of attention in his own place. Everyone clamored for his attention and time.

  His eyes floated to the kitchen window he’d been watching through earlier. His reflection stared back at him, reminded him that he was an outsider, alone, and not welcome. In his own eyes, he could picture himself outside, looking in, and wishing he could change places with Rebel. His hands began to tremble and his heart began to race. Before he did something stupid like getting caught breaking in to Rebel’s apartment, he quickly stepped through the door and silently closed it behind him. He retraced his steps until he reached his dilapidated car and crawled back into it.

  “At least the Miami winters are mild,” he sighed and cracked his windows for air. Settling into the seat for the night, he welcomed the reprieve when sleep overtook him.

  17

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Say again. He’s what?” Bull whispered into the comm. “I’m sure I heard you wrong.”

  “He’s watching TV with Rebel,” Reaper replied again. “I’ve said it three times now.”

  “Does he have a weapon? A bomb strapped to his chest?”

  “Negative. He looks like he wants to laugh,” Reaper replied.

  “He’s not shitting you, man. I can see him, too,” Shadow said. “Funniest shit I’ve ever seen.”

  “He’s over your right shoulder, Rebel. In the doorway to the kitchen. Laugh if you copy,” Reaper instructed.

  Rebel laughed louder than usual, exaggerating it to confirm his reply. His hand slipped down between the couch cushions and gripped the handle of his trusty Bowie knife. If Turan decided to make a crazy play, he’d have one hell of a fight on his hands.

  “He’s backing away, coming back toward you, Bull,” Reaper called.

  “Copy. I got eyes on him,” Bull replied. “He’s out now.”

  “Let him go if he wants to leave. We need to catch him in the act to seal his fate,” Reaper replied.

  “It’d be so easy, though. One shot, he’d fall,” Bull replied. “And he wouldn’t get back up.”

  “Maybe he’ll try to kill me tomorrow night,” Rebel replied.

  “I’m following him. Seeing where he’s hiding out,” Shadow advised. “Stay put.”

  “Don’t let him see you,” Reaper replied.

  “Do you even know who I am?” Shadow answered incredulously.

  Amusement erupted over the airwaves in the form of muffled laughter and snorts. “What do you see?” Reaper asked, his mood lighter.

  “He has a new ride. And it’s an older, shittier car than the one he gave the homeless man,” Shadow replied.
“Parked behind the complex in a vacant parking lot. He just laid the seat back and is going to sleep.”

  “Rebel, you have three guys on duty all night—two outside and one inside. That’s an order,” Reaper said resolutely.

  “Yes, sir,” Rebel replied. His voice held respect for his CO, but the twinge of disgust wasn’t completely hidden.

  “I’m not taking any chances, Rebel. He could very well come back in the middle of the night with explosives and take out half the building,” Reaper reminded him.

  “You’re right. As usual,” Rebel conceded. “Go home and get your beauty rest, girls. For some reason, I think he’ll want it to be much more up close and personal than an IED would be.”

  “Fix that lock on your back door just the same,” Reaper directed. “You know how to reach me if you need me.”

  They silently retreated to their vehicles and met back at Reaper’s house to debrief and consider changes to the lineup for the following night.

  “I think our boy is more screwed up than we realized,” Shadow spoke first.

  “How so?” Bull asked.

  “Watching TV with Rebel? Sleeping in that dilapidated car? He’s an outcast who’s tried to fit in everywhere, but he doesn’t really belong anywhere,” Shadow answered with a shake of his head.

  “Feeling sorry for the guy who’s planning to kill Rebel? And already tried to kill Liz?” Reaper asked. “You want to adopt him?”

  “Don’t go talking all crazy on me,” Shadow replied. “I’m just saying, again, that he doesn’t fit the profile of any murderer I know.”

  “You’ve been friends with a lot of murderers over the years, have you?” Bull asked.

  “You’d be surprised,” Shadow replied.

  “I have to admit, when he was watching TV with Rebel, he looked…” Reaper’s voice tapered off as he searched for the right word.

  “Lost,” Shadow interjected.

  Reaper nodded in agreement.

  “He’s a kid, man,” Shadow said with aggravation. “He should be living it up in college, partying in the fraternity house, enjoying his life. Not putting himself in a predicament where we’re forced to take his life before he’s even lived it.”

  “He’s older than we were when we joined the Army,” Reaper reminded him. “He’s grown. Old enough to know what he’s doing and be responsible for it.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. If he makes a move for Rebel, I’ll take him down in a split second. Just saying he should’ve made different choices for his life,” Shadow clarified.

  “I hear ya, man,” Reaper answered. “Let’s cover tomorrow night’s assignments while we’re here.”

  The three men talked about the different vantage points, the blind spots, and the vacant parking lot. “We need someone covering his car so we know what he’s carrying before he even reaches Rebel’s place,” Reaper said. “If he happens to show up with C-4 strapped to his chest, I’d rather know as soon as possible.”

  “Agreed. Let’s put Blake covering the parking lot. There are no windows on that side of the building anyway,” Bull suggested. “One man can cover it.”

  After a few more changes, Bull took Chaise back to their home and Shadow left for his. Noah settled into the couch and Brianna snuggled up into his side. “Feels good to have you home again,” she said and hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “It was a strange night, but nothing dangerous happened,” Noah replied before he kissed her. “It’s good to be home with you.”

  “Strange how? What happened?”

  “Turan went into Rebel’s apartment through the back door, like we knew he would. But then he just stood behind Rebel and watched TV with him. Then he left. He didn’t try anything at all. Just …watched TV.”

  “He what?” Brianna sat up and looked at Noah.

  “You sound like Bull now. He asked that three times,” Noah laughed. “I’m not kidding. He watched TV with Rebel and then he just left.”

  “I heard what Shadow said about him being an outcast and how he doesn’t fit in anywhere,” she replied. “He’s not a kid who went on a joyride in his parents’ car, Noah. He tried to kill Liz. He left her for dead. He’s tied to other crimes, too. You have a wonderful heart, but when it comes down to it, it’ll be you or him. He will always choose to kill you. When that time comes, you can’t hesitate…because our baby and I will always choose you over him.”

  “I promise, babe, I won’t hesitate.” Noah rubbed her belly lovingly. “There’s no choice if it comes down to that. I will always choose you and our baby.”

  “Speaking of, we really need to start picking out a few names. Then we can narrow it down from there.”

  “Do you have anything in mind?”

  “Noah Steele,” she chastised him. “Don’t think you’re fooling me. I know that means you haven’t even considered a name yet, and you’re leaving all the work up to me.”

  Noah laughed, knowing he’d been busted. “Fine, fine. I’ve just been a little busy lately and haven’t had time to look through that gigantic book of possible baby names.”

  “I know you have.” She ran her fingers lovingly through his hair. “You always work too hard.”

  “Have I left you alone too much?” he asked, concern covering his face.

  “I’ll always take more time with you, Noah,” she replied. “But, there’s no reason to worry. You’re home with me every night, and I fully realize I’m so very lucky for it.”

  “You are very lucky,” Noah agreed. “And if you take me upstairs, I can be persuaded to let you get lucky several more times tonight.”

  “That’s an irresistible offer. I think I’ll take you upstairs and start persuading you right now.”

  Noah jumped up and swept Brianna up in his arms. He took the stairs two at a time and raced down the hall toward the bedroom. Brianna squealed and laughed in delight, caught up in the moment with him. When his mouth covered hers, she felt her entire body melt into his. She held his face in her hands briefly and then wrapped her arms around his neck. He tilted her head to the side and deepened the kiss, eliciting a needful whimper from her.

  He kicked the door shut as they entered, and he put her down next to the bed. His hands slid down her silky nightgown, making her temperature rise with desire. He bunched the fabric up in his fingers and pulled it over her head. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he whispered.

  “You make me believe that,” she whispered back. “In the way you look at me. In the way you love me.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  She helped him out of his work clothes, pulling his black T-shirt off and running her fingers, lips, and tongue across his expansive chest. Once she had him out of his BDUs, she gently pushed on his chest and he willingly fell back on the bed. She took her place beside him and wrapped her hand around him, surrounding him with her small fingers as she began to stroke him. Leaning over, she took him deep into her mouth and his hands tightly gripped her hair.

  “Mmm, baby,” he praised. “Damn, you feel so good.”

  She continued working him, her hand and mouth moving in tandem, until he made her stop. “Bri, babe, I want to be inside you. Now.”

  “If you insist.” She grinned slyly.

  She climbed over him and straddled his hips. She guided him to her core, dropped her head back when he entered her, and relished in the sensation as he stretched and filled her with his girth. She rocked her hips front to back, took him fully inside her, and dug her nails into his skin as her body adjusted to accept him. They soon found their rhythm, moving in tandem to love’s intimate song and dancing to the rapid beat of their joined heart.

  His fingers gripped her hips. He pushed and pulled her, lifted and lowered her, all while he continuously drove into her. She felt the pull low in her pelvis, her muscles contracting and gripping him like a velvet vise, and then her orgasm ripped through her body. She cried out his name and felt the warmth of his release immediat
ely after hers subsided. With her body limp and satisfied, she dreamily slid back to his side, laid her head on his shoulder, and draped her arm across his chest. When her leg slid over on top of his, she was somehow touching him from head to toe.

  “You okay, baby?” he asked.

  “Perfect,” she replied. “I may not let you out of bed tomorrow.”

  “Don’t tease me like that,” he chuckled. “You know I’d quit my job if you asked me to.”

  She opened her eyes and tilted her head up to fully look at him. “You love your job.”

  “I love you more. My job isn’t my life. You are.”

  “Would you really quit? For me?”

  “Absolutely.” He stroked her arm back and forth, leaving chill bumps with his every pass. “Do you not believe me?”

  “I’ve actually never even thought of that, Noah,” she admitted. “It’s so much a part of you, it would be like asking you to stop being you.”

  “Don’t misunderstand. I enjoy having my business, doing my job, and working with the guys. Having everything means nothing without you, though. The more I see in my job, the more that fact is seared in my mind.”

  “If you’re unhappy in your job at any time, you’re not bound to it. You can do something different if you want. The only thing you can’t get out of alive is this marriage.” She smiled sweetly. “They’d never find your girlfriend’s body.”

  Noah laughed at her reply. “That sounds pretty badass. It’s kinda turning me on again.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “You shouldn’t be,” he agreed. “But you should know by now that you’re the other half of my soul. I’ve said it in every way I know how.”

  “My husband. The father of my baby. The love of my life. My provider, my protector, my best friend. My lover, owner of my heart, rocker of my world. There is no part of my life that doesn’t revolve around you.”