by Brook Wilder
“I am only here to help my best friend, that is it. This is about Carla,” she said primly.
“Sure it is.”
“Of course it is!” she argued, turning towards him, her temper rising, “What else would it be about?”
“Well, me, one could hope,” he said and suddenly he was there, leaning so far across the table that their faces were mere inches apart. So close that their breaths mingled in the most intimate way. But that was it. Not a kiss, even though her lips tingled as if he’d laid his across them. Not even a caress across her flushed cheeks. Just a look, and the shared oxygen between them.
“You shouldn’t, you know,” she finally managed to say, hating the sultry breathiness of her voice.
“Shouldn’t what?” his eyes, so dark, so warm, flicked down to land on her lips and on instinct she licked them. He groaned quietly as she swiped her tongue across her lower lip and she felt a rush of feminine power at his reaction. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before but she pushed it away.
“You shouldn’t hope,” Elle’s words fell feather-soft from her lips, “not when it comes to me.”
Something about her words, or the tone behind them, no longer teasing made his eyes draw back up to hers and the heat she saw burn behind their dark depths made her gasp in a sharp breath as her whole body seemed to catch fire, burning right along with them. For a single second, she slipped, giving up, giving in to the feeling building like wildfire inside her and he saw it.
Honey moved to lean forward and, just then, a jarring beep when off. Elle jumped, startled, but looked down to see the phone’s timer going off in her hands. She’d forgotten all about it. With a curse she pulled away, drawing a deep breath and trying to settle her suddenly shattered nerves.
“I guess it’s time, then,” she whispered, and he looked at her for a long moment from under his dark slashing brows before he nodded.
“I guess it is.”
With trembling fingers, she dialed the number, holding her breath, a part of her praying that Maurice wouldn’t pick up, but on the third ring his bombastic voice echoed over the line.
“What?” was all he said.
“Um, Maur– Mr. Montero? This is Elle, Elle Watson,” she said, and prayed that he would mistake the breathiness of her voice for panic, “Have you seen Carla?”
“What? Carla? What is this about?”
“I think…Carla is missing. She’s missing.” Elle took another deep breath against the tightness of her chest, wracking her brain for what else to say. But she needn’t have worried. A second later the line went dead as Maurice hanged up. The plan was in motion. He’d taken the bait.
*
Joel watched, impressed despite himself as Carla made quick work of the lock to the office and they both walked inside. Joel closed the door softly behind him. Luckily, there was enough daylight left for them to see fine inside Maurice’s office without having to turn on any additional lights and they hastily went to work searching through the most likely placed the bastard would have hidden anything.
The desk itself was empty of everything except for some standard forms and files, some accounting documents and profit and loss statements. Joel raised his eyebrows at the impressive amount that fell into the profit category and cast a wondering glance towards Carla.
“Who knew that dealing weed legally could be even more profitable than selling it under the table?” he said quietly, mentally doing the math as he replaced the files and whistled silently at the number he came too. Carla just rolled her eyes before giving him a stern look.
“Stay focused,” she said softly, but her voice was firm, “I don’t know how long we have. I don’t know how long our play with Sparkplug will keep Maurice occupied.”
“Okay, okay, but, damn,” Joel shook his head, “I know what to do now if we ever go legit.” Carla rolled her eyes again and they both went back to searching in earnest. They were silent for a long moment, both getting lost in their mission, but finally Carla made a noise. She was crouched in front of the only bookshelf and a box had been stashed haphazardly at the bottom.
“Joel, I think I have something. Here, come take a look at this,” she said, her voice still at a whisper. He walked over, bending down until he could see was she was holding and pointed at one line in the list of numbers.
“I recognize this one. They’re all phone numbers with Utah area codes.”
“His contacts?”
“Could be.” Joel was pretty sure that it was exactly the evidence they needed, but he didn’t want to get her hopes up just in case it wasn’t. “Let’s take all this stuff back to the clubhouse and go through it there.” He grabbed the box so she could stand and stopped when he noticed her freeze, all of her muscles going stiff.
“What? What is it, Carla, did you find something else?” he asked, still putting all the evidence back in the box before closing it up.
“Well, you could say that,” a new, terribly familiar voice said from the doorway. It was full of venom and malice and, as Joel slowly turned towards the door his heart stopped as his worst fears were confirmed. There in the doorway stood Maurice, his expression twisted in a grimace of hate and he had a gun clenched in his hands. It was pointed straight at Carla’s heart.
Chapter 33
“What? What is it, Carla, did you find something else?” Joel’s question fell on deaf ears as Carla stared at the nightmare scene in the doorway. She couldn’t understand how he was there, how they hadn’t heard him come in. A part of her knew those questions didn’t matter, that she was just trying to distract herself from the agonizing fear that threatened to choke her. No, the only thing that mattered was that Maurice was there, standing right in front of her and he had a gun pointed straight at her.
“Well, you could say that,” Maurice said with a grin. At least she thought it was supposed to be a grin. His eyes burned with malice and vitriol and sweat drenched the pudgy red skin of his cheeks but his hands were steady and the gun didn’t sway from her at all as he walked further into the office.
“Well, well, well,” Maurice said, clicking his tongue like he was scolding two recalcitrant children, “imagine my surprise to find you here. I had it on good authority that you are missing, Carla. Isn’t that funny?”
He waved the gun at her when she didn’t answer and she hastened to open her mouth, to keep him talking as long as possible.
“Yes, yes, it’s funny,” Carla replied weakly, hating that weakness but not knowing what to do as it seemed to invade her whole body, turning her muscles to jelly as Maurice took another step closer.
“Good, agreeing with me is good,” he said, still training the gun on her, “what’s not good is returning here to find that my office had been broken into and to find you two searching through my private, personal things,” he paused his placidly spoken words, “these are my things!” The shout was so sudden that it made both of them jump nearly out of their skins and Joel moved to stand but then Maurice swung the gun, pointing it solidly at his head.
“Uh-uh, now I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Maurice said, his voice morphing once more back into the unusual calm of before his outburst. But it didn’t stop Joel from rising to his feet, slowly and steadily, his hands raised non-threateningly in the air.
“Listen, I’m sure we can come to some sort of understanding. We’re both businessmen after all.”
Maurice let out a snorting laugh at Joel’s cajoling words and Carla’s stomach knotted painfully at the hint of madness that touched that laugh. It was the laugh of a man on the edge of a cliff, or standing on a scaffold with a rope around his neck. It spoke of a man at the end but there was a quiet confidence there as well as that scared her almost as much.
“Business men. Is that what we are?” Maurice said, his voice once more calm, and slightly more normal. Carla used the time while Maurice’s attention was focused on Joel to surreptitiously reach into her pocket and turn the camera of the temporary phone on. Even if it didn’t catch
the video, it would still record every word that Maurice said.
“Of course,” Joel continued, the whole time moving so slowly that she wasn’t even sure Maurice was aware of it until there was more distance separating them. There was almost five or six feet in between Carla and Joel now, but each step brought him closer to Maurice. “Isn’t that what this was all about? Business? You lost a product and we’re going to be out the profit. You wanted it back.”
“No, I got it back! I got all of the weed back, that contact in Utah? He was my man, to the bone and it all just came straight back to me. I ended up getting the money back too,” Maurice chuckled darkly and it sent another wave of chills through her, “and it was all thanks to her,” he gestured with the gun in Carla’s direction and she flinched despite herself.
“It was all because of Carla. Without her I never would have found it, but the dumb bitch led me straight to it. And to you. You thought you were being so clever but you weren’t as clever as me!”
Maurice was pointing the gun wildly now and that was when Carla realized they might not make it out of that office alive. There was a wildness to the man, and an unpredictability that she had only caught glimpses of before, but it was out in full force now as he continued to rant.
“That blond chick that we caught. She barely had any on her at all but luckily I had time to plant more before the police could check the trunk. She’ll rot in jail now. But not you two. No, I have a special plan for you two. See, since I installed that app on Carla’s phone I’ve been able to track you. I really did like that house up near the Colorado border. It was quiet. Secluded. The perfect spot.”
“The perfect spot for what?” Joel said, prodding him and Carla hissed a warning in his direction. It was like he was trying to draw Maurice’s attention.
“Why, the perfect spot for us, of course. For me and Carla. Yes, it will be perfect. We’ll be alone. Finally, alone.” His eyes were glazed as if he was seeing something else, and it was that something else that made ice chill her to the core. It didn’t take much to figure out what he was planning. She was pretty sure she would rather die before that happened.
Carla wracked her mind for a plan, but came up empty, fear and panic making it impossible to think straight. But it didn’t matter. Joel was already talking again.
“That’s not going to happen, you know, whatever it is that you’re drooling about over there,” Joel’s tone was insolent, irreverent even and Carla watched in horror as Maurice’s eyes narrowed on him.
“Why’s that? Are you going to stop me?” He had the gun trained on Joel again and took a step towards him threateningly.
“Fuck yes I’m going to stop you. You think I’m afraid of that little gun of yours? I bet you wouldn’t come over here and say that to my face about my girl.”
“Your girl!” Maurice raged, taking several steps closer to Joel and Carla reached out, about to scream at him to stop whatever he was doing, but at the last moments Joel’s eyes cut over to hers, trapping her, and she could see it in the depths of his silver eyes. He was pleading with her to trust him. And she did. With her life.
“She’s not your fucking girl you dirty, scumbag piece of shit. You’re worthless!” Maurice was screaming now, spittle flying from his lips, “You mean nothing. Your life means nothing. Your death will mean nothing.” He was only a foot away now and the gun in his hands was pressed against Joel’s forehead so hard that Carla could see the bruise it would leave. That was if there was still a head there to have a bruise.
Suddenly, with the sight of Joel glaring at Maurice, laughing in his face, laughing away the threat of his impending death something snapped inside her. All of the fear, all of the panic and nerves and twisted knots in her stomach disappeared, melting away as a realization settled over her.
First, was that she was strong enough to handle this, to handle anything, and the second was that she wasn’t about to let Maurice, or anyone else for that matter, take away the only good thing that had ever happened in her life. If she had to fight for Joel’s life, then she would. She sure as hell wasn’t about to stand there and just let Maurice shoot the man that she loved. The man that loved her back.
Carla took a tentative step forward, and then another, drawing her phone out of her pocket silently at the same time. No matter what happened she was going to make sure that Maurice went down for it, for all of it. She didn’t even have a plan at first but then she saw it. The paper weight sitting on Maurice’s desk, a tiny marijuana plant leaf encased in resin. It was hard and solid and, even if it wouldn’t knock Maurice out, hopefully it would distract him enough for Joel to flee.
She moved without letting herself think about it twice, grabbing the smooth, heavy object in her hand and raising it high above her head. But just then Joel saw her, the widening of his eyes alerting Maurice that something was going on.
He shifted, turning to face her, but was hampered by his own bulk. It gave Joel just enough time to raise his own fists and send them powering into Maurice, knocking him to the ground with a wheezing cry of pain. Carla wasted no time, dropping the paper weight and running around the desk to the only door, the only way in or out.
But Joel knelt down, tearing the gun from Maurice’s hands while he rolled on the ground, incapacitated for the moment.
“Joel, let’s go,” Carla said after he stood there for another moment, staring from the gun now clutched in his hands to Maurice who was still down for the count and looked like he would stay that way for some time.
“Please, Joel,” Carla pleaded again, reading the conflict in his stormy gray eyes, “Please, let’s just go. We have what we need to put him away for a long time.”
Joel looked over at her in confusion and she waved the phone still held tightly in her arms in the air.
“I got everything, Joel. Every single thing that he said. About messing with my phone, about getting the illegal weed back, even about setting up Hot Wheels. He’s going to jail for a long, long time.” Carla finally said softly, victoriously, “Let’s go home.”
Joel nodded, coming toward her, some of the fighting fire burning in his eyes dissipating as he followed her out of the office. They ran towards the long driveway to where his bike was still parked, exactly where they had left it when they had first started this whole thing.
Chapter 34
Joel took a deep breath as he walked towards Carla. He was still shaking with rage, with the desire to point the gun he held in his hands at the head of the man that had threatened his girl, his blue bird, and pull the god damned trigger. It was that very impulse that made him quickly empty the cartridge, stashing the bullets in the hidden inside pocket of his jacket and then making sure the chamber was empty.
Only after he had made sure all of the bullets were out and the gun was empty did he move to tuck it in the back of his jeans, pulling his leather jacket up and over it so it was hidden in the waistband. His hands were shaking as he neared the bike and he couldn’t make himself look at her, not yet. Maybe not until they got back to the club house and he could convince himself, convince both of them that they were whole and unharmed and blessedly, amazingly alive.
Joel let out a shaky breath, swiping one hand over across his face and then running his fingers once, twice through his hair. He’d had some close calls before. Everyone in the lifestyle did, and it wasn’t like he’d exactly had a perfect, pristine childhood growing up. He’d been on his own since he was sixteen, and if he was honest, long before that. He’d had plenty of dances with good old Mr. Death but nothing at all came close to the moment he saw Maurice point that gun at Carla.
Everything had narrowed then, his entire world shrinking to that one, horrible moment when he’d been so sure that he was about to lose everything good in his life, and right after he’d just gotten her back.
A harsh chuckle burst from his chest and he shuddered as the agony of it swept through him, incapacitating him. But then he felt it. Lightly at first, almost not even there at all but then fi
rmer and more real. Yes, it was her. Her touch. Carla had walked up behind him and was sliding her arms like twin snakes around his waist, pressing her cheek to his back and even through the leather of his jacket he could feel her heat. Her sweetness. Her love.
It broke something in him, and at the same time, like a ray of sunlight breaking through the leaves of a tree, it healed something in him as well. His head dropped and his chin hit his chest as all the fight went out of him. But the adrenaline was still there and it propelled him into motion as he spun around in her arms, pulling her close against him.
His mouth landed on hers in a hard kiss. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t gentle, but it held every ounce of love and lust and desire and awe that welled up inside him and he revealed it all to her. Finally, she pulled back, panting and pink cheeked, her big blue eyes shining up at him as a small smile danced around her kiss swollen lips.
“As much as I enjoyed that, I’m really not sure now is the best time for…” Carla trailed off, finishing the sentence with a tiny shrug and a look back at the office. She was right. He knew that. It was only a matter of time before Maurice was up and moving again. He hadn’t hit the man hard enough to do any serious damage, more’s the pity, but he couldn’t stop himself from dropping one more quick, powerful kiss on her lips, tasting her sweetness one more time before dragging himself back.
