by Lydia Pax
He had parked behind her house in a dirt road, far from the well-lit streets of the suburban neighborhood.
It wasn’t lost on him that he was a wanted man. If the cops saw him, he’d be taken out in a snap. Probably they wouldn’t even bother to arrest him. There was no gang like the cops, and they looked after their own, even if it was after the fact.
The inside of John Colt’s office was not lavish or ornate, but anyone with an eye could tell that the furnishings were expensive. His desk was solid oak, probably one whole piece of some great tree carved down to size. It looked freshly polished. The rug beneath them was made from the pelt of a mountain lion. On the wall there was an original map of the Texas area drawn by Spanish cartographers in 1796. A great number of steel filing cabinets circled against the walls, gathered like ancient men with stones in front of a whore.
They stood across from each other in the dark, shadows playing over their faces.
God, she was pretty even in the darkness. He had trouble getting over how pretty she was every time he saw her. Her face lit up his whole soul. He wanted to hold her tight, to bring her against his body, but he had no idea if she would let him. He had a feeling if he tried to touch her now she’d pull out one of what was probably several hidden guns in her dad’s office and blow him away.
“So,” she said. Her arms were crossed, her eyes dark. “We’re here, then. What do you want to talk about?”
There was an edge behind her voice, something sharp and dangerous. He’d have to tread carefully.
“How’s Theo?”
“He’s alive.”
Ram made a sound, not sure how he felt about that. The truth was that he would prefer the man dead for what he had done to Mikhail. But if he lived, then that was a bit of sunshine. They couldn’t pull him in on a murder charge. The heat would die down a little quicker, though not by much.
Even as a drunk cop, Theo was still a cop, and sooner or later he’d have to face the consequences for beating him.
“You don’t seem pleased about not killing my cousin.”
“It’s complicated,” he said. “You know it’s complicated.”
“You wanted to talk.” Her bottom lip trembled slightly. “I hoped that maybe part of that talk was an apology for hurting someone in my family.”
He was wrong. There was raw emotion behind her voice, not an edge. She was on the brink of exploding. He only wished he wasn’t either.
Instead of answering, he grunted unintelligibly, not sure how to answer. He was bad at apologies. He always had been.
“You can’t be fucking serious.” She threw up her hands. “You know what? This is all fucked.”
Surprise hit him at the profanity she threw out. Wild Girl. She paced from one end of the room to the other, holding her arms under her breasts.
“Yeah, it’s all fucked,” she said again. “You wanted me to pretend to be your old lady so you can stay in your gang. Well, your gang wants you gone, right? And I wanted you to be my husband, Jesus Christ, what was I thinking with that, I wanted you to be that because I wanted my parents off my back. Well, good news, they’re ready to disown me. My dad keeps saying he’ll throw me in an insane asylum, and I don’t know how serious he is about that but I know he can do it if he wants. And to top it off,” her laugh was almost manic, “to top it off, you’re too much of an asshole to even say you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry, then,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sorry I ‘m mad that my friend was murdered. I’m sorry I wanted to be part of something in this town. I’m sorry I married you. I’m sorry I ever met you, okay? So now you can stop your little tour of the seedy side and go piss off your Dad a different way, how about that?”
His voice rang across the empty house for several seconds. They looked away from each other. Ram felt cloaked in shame—shame from those words, from everything. There didn’t seem to be any way to put any of this right. Everyone wanted him gone or dead, and he didn’t think they were wrong.
“You should go,” she said, stepping toward the door. “This was a mistake, bringing you here.” She sighed, her stance shifting this way and that as she pulled on the handle. Now that all that emotion had found a release, she seemed relieved. A little swiveling on the pressure valve to bring her back to normal. “I wish you luck, Ram. But don’t…I mean, just stay alive, okay? You’re better that way.”
She wanted him alive.
June wanted him alive. Wasn’t that something? After all this. She could write him out of her life anytime she wanted. There was more than enough reason to have their marriage annulled anytime, and her father could make it happen in a heartbeat.
And if Ram was killed, well, too easy. She’d be a widow, and the world always took it easy on widows. Especially the young ones.
“I am sorry,” he said, watching her leave the office. “I do apologize. To you. I do.”
She stopped, turning slowly.
“For what?”
“For all of it. It all…I think this whole mess has been my fault. Mikhail’s death. The death of that cop. I didn’t do it directly, but I was involved. I had my part. And Theo, Christ. You said he’s going to be okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. That’s good.” He let out a breath. “That’s real good. I don’t want to kill…anybody. Not really. Least of all someone in your family.”
“Maybe my dad? A little bit?”
She was joking now, that was good. He was gaining back ground.
“Nah,” he said. “I’ll leave that to you. You sound like you have plans drawn out half the time.”
Her mouth shrugged inward. “Not a bad idea to start, now that you mention it.”
“It was dumb to say you’re just trying to piss off your Dad, June. At least I hope you’re not. I guess I’m scared that you are.”
“I am,” she said. “A little. But it’s more than that.”
“Good.” He stepped closer to her. She didn’t step away, and his heart leapt. “Because it was dumb to say I didn’t want you in my life. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve said in a long time, and it’s got some high competition. You’re special to me, June. You’re important. I really am glad, June, that I met you.”
He came forward to her now all the way, putting his hands on her shoulders. God, she felt good. His wild girl. That temper, that fierce intelligence in her eyes. He wanted every part of her—wanted to light up her body again with his own.
“I am too,” she said. “I just don’t know what it means. I don’t think it’s something that was meant to be.”
“That’s only true if we let it be true.”
She collapsed against him, pushing deep into his bulk. He held her tight, as tight as she could, so tight that she squealed a bit and he had to loosen.
“I should go,” she said, pushing back. “Before we do something dumb. Again.”
“What if I want to do something dumb?”
He kissed her, and she did not stop him. She leaned in to the kiss, their lips meeting hotly, and he felt the heavy stirrings of passion between his legs. His cock stiffened almost immediately, needing her, feeling the immediacy of their situation.
“June,” he said, taking her against his body. “June, I need you. I can’t lose you too.”
“Ram…”
“And don’t,” he shook his finger. “Don’t say it’s all pretend. Don’t say it doesn’t mean anything. Because it means something to me and it should mean something to you too. Doesn’t it?” His face became searching. “Doesn’t it?”
For a moment it felt like she wouldn’t answer. Like she would leave him there, alone to wonder for the rest of his life what might have been. That would be even worse than telling him no. As she drew in her breath, it felt like time stopped for him.
“…yes. It does, Ram. I don’t want it to be pretend anymore. I’m not sure how much I ever wanted it to be.”
He kissed her, hard and full of passion. Tongues slipped together, her taste entering
his mouth once more, and all felt right in the world. His hardness pressed with eager need against his leg and he wanted to feel himself inside of her once more.
This all felt hurried, rushed, and Ram didn’t care. Passion overtook him, his pants starting to slip down. He brought out an arm to steady himself—but in the midst of his need he struck hard against the filing cabinet over June’s head. It tumbled into the next, and then that one into the next, a steady domino effect pushing each cabinet past the other.
“Oh shit,” said June, pulling herself up from underneath him. “Shit, shit.”
She got up to inspect the damage done. No doubt her dad was a stickler for his whole office being in order—and Ram had just fucked that up.
His boner pushed insistently at the tight confines of his underwear, sending hot shivers of pleasure up and down his spine as he watched June’s gorgeous body move in front of him—but he stuffed it back in his pants nonetheless.
“Shit,” he grunted. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to do that.”
“I know,” she said, clearly annoyed. “I know. I’m just…I’m fucking turned on, but honestly, if we don’t fix this and my Dad sees it, we’re boned in the worst way.”
Ram only had a desire to be boned in the best way—with June—and so set to helping her.
Chapter 43
They began to straighten the cabinets back up, which was easy enough as long as they worked in order from the first to the last. As they did, June saw that there had been much force built up by the succession of strikes that the ones at the end—the ones nearest her father’s desk—had popped open from their locks. There was a heavy dent at the top where the edge of the cabinet had struck into it.
“Do you think you can put your hand in there,” said June, “and try and pop out the metal? You’re stronger than I am.”
He grabbed her ass, lifting her up into the air just with the one hand. “I’m stronger than you know, wild girl.”
Just like that, she wanted to fuck him again. To hear the grunts and masculine groans he made as he came, to watch his eyes as he filled her up and told her…
…told me that he loves me?
She swallowed, trying not to linger on the thought. They had too much to take care of in here. Her pussy was wet with need—but they had to get out of there. They were already greatly pushing their luck. It was some kind of miracle that no one had heard the crashing of the cabinets.
The romantic in her wanted that lack of intrusion to mean that their fucking was supposed to happen, that they were supposed to go crazy like that…they were supposed to tell each other what they felt. She felt an urge—sharp and undeniable—to go down on him then and there and suck him off until he was begging to push inside of her pussy again.
“Hey,” said Ram, frowning. “There’s something here.”
In a moment, he had it—a small brown package loaded with tapes. The package was unmarked, the tapes designated only by date. She recognized her father’s big blocky handwriting on the numbers written on the tapes.
They exchanged a look, curiosity clearly working on both of them. A hidden package filled with tapes—what was it?
“Just one?” suggested Ram.
There was a tape player right there on his desk. They spread the tapes out, looking at the various dates. There were dozens of them.
“I can’t believe he’s still using tapes,” said June. “He never wanted to catch up to the 21st century, did he?”
“Maybe what he’s got on here is too sensitive to keep on a computer,” said Ram, popping the latest tape. “Doesn’t want anyone to hack in and find it.”
The tape began to play. Right away June recognized her father’s voice.
“What the hell was that mess at The Hammerin’ Nail? I told you to keep it quiet. Goad them into a fight when you could, but then clear out when it gets going so my boys could swoop in and arrest them.”
“It got more complicated than that,” said a heavy Hispanic voice.
“Acero,” Ram whispered. “That’s Acero.”
“Beretta and him,” Acero continued, “they got issues longer than the fucking Great Wall. I can’t stop them from fighting.”
“Then maybe I oughta talk to Beretta and knock some sense in him?”
“You can try if you like. Nobody else can.” He laughed. “Don’t talk to him. He won’t understand why a cop isn’t arresting him. He’ll ask questions. I want him in the dark for a little while longer, at least until the Crew is taking care of.”
“The fact remains, one of my deputies is shot in the head. I know my boys didn’t do it.”
“It wasn’t us,” said Acero.
“How do you know? You were shooting guns, weren’t you? You were shooting guns at the police?”
Acero was quiet for several moments. “…it wasn’t us,” he said again. “Listen, Colt. We’re paying you a lot of money to work with us, and if you don’t want it at any time, you just let us know. I don’t care—”
“I don’t care if you pay me twice what you’re paying me now. You keep fucking up and I’ll toss you in jail for any number of offenses I’ve called you on, all right?”
“Sure, okay. And then, when I get my lawyer to contact federal officials, maybe they like to hear what kind of deal you make, huh?”
“Is that a threat? Are you threatening me? Let me tell you something, you pissant shit. You wouldn’t be half of what you are today—”
June pressed stop on the tape. She and Ram exchanged looks.
“That’s pretty damning stuff,” said Ram. “Beretta was right, I can’t believe it.”
“He was right, what do you mean?” she asked. “I thought you two were enemies or something.”
“We were. We are.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. But he told me he smelled a rat in the Flags.”
“You seem pretty mad he was right.”
“It’s that kind of relationship. You know how it is.”
“I do.” She nodded. “We have to go public with this, don’t we?”
“Really? That’s your Dad. I mean, that will ruin him. He’ll get jail time.”
“It’s the right thing to do,” she said. “You can’t have…you can’t have a fucking Sheriff colluding with the leader of an outlaw operation. That’s not what people elected him for. It’s dishonest. Who knows how deep this goes? God…” she shook her head. “There could be an investigation. I’m sure this isn’t the only bit of evidence on him. He keeps everything. Do you think—” she stopped, looking up at Ram. “Does it make me a bad daughter if I do this, Ram?”
“I don’t know how to answer that for you, June. I know you’re smart as hell. And I know you’ve got a much better moral compass than I do. Whatever you choose to do, it’ll be the right thing.”
Looking in his eyes, it was easy to believe him. She wished that she could think that way about herself.
Chapter 44
Ram had to get out of town for the night, and they had pressed their luck enough. They said their goodbyes, promising to contact each other often, and only just barely avoided one last goodbye fuck when they began trading kisses again. There just wasn’t time—it was late, and someone could be coming home at any second now. A fuck wasn’t worth their life…but only by a little. If they knew for certain they would die tomorrow, June was dead certain she would have been fucking him still.
It excited her, how hard it made him to call her his wife—how aroused he was by grinding himself against her body and whispering how much he wanted to fuck his wife rotten.
His wife.
God, it still didn’t seem real. Wives had homes and schedules and jobs and responsibilities. She felt like his wife the way she felt like a college graduate. Yes, she had walked down the aisle and picked up her diploma. But that didn’t make it feel any more real.
Maybe it was one of those things that took time, like a new profession. You could only realize how perfectly you’d acclimated some six months or six years down the li
ne.
The thought made her slightly giddy, being with Ram for six years.
She stuffed the tapes into her purse and exited her father’s office, wondering if the bulge was evident.
“June?”
It was her mother. June turned, quickly trying to assemble lies in her head.
“June, what were you doing in there?”
They approached each other in the entry, still in the darkness. The only light came from the lights in the kitchen down the hall.
“I came home to get…something for Theo,” she said. “And I thought I heard a noise in Dad’s office. It must have been a squirrel outside or something.”
Even that much felt weak in June’s head.
Her mother raised a slow eyebrow. “You knew I was going to come back here tonight. I texted you. I could have picked it up for Theo. You didn’t have to go all the way back yourself.”
“To tell the truth, Mom, I wanted to. I needed a break from the hospital for just a little bit.”
“I expect you would. He’s looking bad. What did you get him?”
Change the subject, now. This was getting out of hand.
“Why are you here only getting home this late at night?” she asked.
Sheila huffed slightly. “I don’t answer to you, young lady.”
June crossed her arms. Sheila opened her mouth and closed it, finally shaking herself slightly, like there was a strong breeze.
“The secretary for the night officers at the station, Samantha, is having a baby. Working nights is difficult for pregnant women, and I go up there on the regular to ask if I can help her out some way. It’s not all about you, this town. Or don’t you remember?”
“Stop it,” said June. “You sound like Dad. I don’t think everything is about me, okay? I know that it is not. He should think that not everything is about him.”
Sheila smiled. “You’d have better luck convincing a bull that not every waving flag is asking to be gored.”
“Mom…”
She wanted to tell her about the tapes—about all of it. But some presence in her mind stopped her, some guilt or sympathy. It took her a moment to find out what it was.
