by M. K. Gilher
Ouch! Kevin's words spear the deep recesses of my psyche.
Jacade growls like a junkyard dog protecting its territory and lunges one foot forward, brandishing the tongs at Kevin like a scary weapon.
Kevin squeaks and leaps back, his shoulders raised, his eyes bulging. He pivots and runs with his arms out like he's been spooked by a bear.
Jacade spits on the sidewalk and casually walks back up the stairs to me with the tongs hanging loose in his right hand.
I laugh as Jacade slides by me. He puts the tongs down and wipes his hands. I erase the smile from my face as I close the door and raise my eyes to his.
"I had that," I say.
"You had that? You opened the fucking door! You had that? Fuck, Ivy. Do you think anyone is gonna approach this place without me knowing about it?"
What? He knew? But he didn't respond to the knock.
"I was checking what you'd do if someone came to the door. And you fucking blew it. Do not open the goddamn door! No matter who the fuck it is. Jesus Christ!"
He scrapes his hands through his hair and paces away from me. My ex came to see me and insulted me in front of him, and he's pissed about the door? His fury sparks fear in my belly. Jacade promised me he'd rein it in.
"Hey. Don't fucking get angry at me because you set up some stupid test and I didn't behave like a mouse in a maze."
"It's common sense, Ivy."
"Kevin is not a threat. He doesn't even play video games. He watches golf, for god's sake. He's a stupid White Sox fan!"
Jacade's eyebrows rise. "What did you see in that asshole? Why'd you give him so many years?"
"I don't know. He was charming at first. Safe. We joked around together, went to games. I liked his family. They're so nice. His sisters and I became friends."
I must have broken through because the steaming kettle above his head stops whistling. His shoulders drop, and he opens his arms to me. I walk into them and collapse against him. His rage has dissipated. I'm proud of him for regaining control so quickly.
"He mentioned getting married." Jacade's arms tense around me. "I avoided the topic and it drew a wedge between us. His teasing got mean spirited, and things deteriorated fast. It took me too long to get rid of him after that."
"It did. Much too long."
"I know. I would've done it sooner if I'd known you were waiting." My cheek rubs against the ruffles of my apron on his chest. "I'm sorry I opened the door."
"Please. Just be careful. Trust no one. Even your ex, even Bryn. Okay?"
"Kay."
He kisses the top of my head. I look up at him, and he kisses my mouth. Soft, quiet, caring, loving. The warmth of his lips on mine lessens the bite of Kevin's hateful slurs.
He ends the kiss. "Boothby knows Kevin would have access to you and you wouldn't suspect him. He could've been using Kevin to get to you."
"I hadn't thought of that."
"There's a lot to think about. Speaking of which, you need to delete all your social media accounts. Anyone you post pictures of becomes a target. Give me your laptop, phone, and tablets. I'll have them wiped and encrypted."
"No social media? What about shoeporn dot com?"
"Shoeporn?" His forehead wrinkles and he frowns.
Does he think I'm watching kinky porn?
The shoe part of shoeporn finally registers in his brain, and he presses his lips together. "Yeah, even that site. We can set you up with an alias so you can browse, but be cautious about posting. I'll have to monitor your activity."
"Monitor my activity? Like a child?"
"Well, more like an employee. It'll keep you safe."
I'm not happy about it, but I acquiesce. I suppose I can give up talking about shoes for just looking at shoes if it means I can be with Jacade.
"Do you monitor all your employees?"
"No. My security team does."
"Oh."
"They all sign nondisclosure agreements too. Confidentiality is essential in this business."
"Legitimate business?"
He chuckles. "Yes, Ivy. Legitimate business."
He pulls my hips to his and wraps his arms around my back. He squeezes me gently, always mindful of my wound. "Now, why did that weasel think he could come here for sex with the ex?"
"I don't know. I haven't talked to him since we broke up. I can't imagine why he thought I'd sleep with him."
"Good, because I'm your man. You're mine. No one else calls your booty but me."
I laugh. "Yes, Sir."
"Let's eat. Trip's fantasy chicken is ready."
Chapter 11
Ivy
The lambent light from the oil lamp candles on the table cast a sepia glow that softens Jacade's harsh edges. Trip's fantasy chicken was superb, tender and soaked in a rich, tangy wine sauce. The veggies were crisp and sweet with just the right amount of garlic.
"Who taught you how to cook?" I ask as I inhale the ambrosial fragrance of the silky, red-and-white peonies Jacade added to the middle of the table. The luxuriant blooms are so heavy, the stems arch and bend over the edges of the rectangular glass vase. Where did he get fresh peonies in the winter?
"Jude. So I could take care of myself and my mother after he left for college."
He clears the plates and returns with a crystal platter of giant strawberries dipped in dark chocolate. He sets it next to the vase of peonies.
"I shouldn't," I say, fumbling with my napkin in my lap.
"Why not? I thought you liked them."
"I do, but…"
He lifts my chin with his index finger and waits for me to meet his gaze. He stares deep into my eyes and reads my soul. "Forget about him."
"It's not him." I lie and look away. Kevin has me hanging from the edges of the deep hole I've worked so hard to dig myself out of.
"Eyes."
I return my gaze to his and catch a flash of his anger.
He caresses my cheek with his fingertips before wrapping his huge palm around the back of my head. "What he said reflects on him, not you." He twines his fingers in my hair. "Men like him criticize women to control them. He knew you were out of his league, and he insulted you to make you think you couldn't do better. You're looking at better, babe."
He wiggles his fingers along the sensitive skin at the base of my scalp, and I shiver. "Your body is the kind that inspires men to build great works of art. Sleek sports cars are designed in a weak attempt to mimic your natural beauty. I am a mere hard, straight oaf, forever humbled at your feet, begging for a chance to climb inside your soft, luscious form."
I close my eyes and turn my head as heat rises in my cheeks. I shake my head.
"If you won't embrace your curves, I will."
The hand on my neck pulls me to standing. He kisses my cheek and walks me backward to the living room.
He turns on my stereo and sways me to a sensual song where the man sings to the one woman in the world for him. Jacade's rough hands stroke from under my arms to the tops of my thighs.
He nuzzles my neck. "Mmm." The growl in his throat drums the sensitive skin of my neck.
My belly drops. So warm. So smooth. On his next pass, his hands trace the outsides of my breasts and down to my knees. He inhales a long, slow breath as he presses his nose in my cleavage.
I wrap my hands around his head and hold him close. He's so damn virile and strong yet so tender and gentle. How can I not feel desired in his arms?
He rises and cradles my face in his bear paws. I tilt my head into his possessive hold.
"Meant for me. Only girl in the world." He talks so low I can barely hear him.
God, I remember when we danced like this in the office at the suites.
I'm yours. Even if death parts us briefly, I belong to you.
I pulled away then, overwhelmed by the intimacy. Now, I welcome the wall of love that slams into me. His words saturate my parched heart. He's mine. Our bond transcends mortality and time.
I wrap my arms behind his back and tense my fing
ertips into his mighty shoulders. He slips his thigh between my legs, and my breath quickens. His hips swivel and mash against mine. Our sentimental embrace fires into a sensual tango. I grind my sex on his leg and squeeze my thighs around him. My seductive dance moves pull a groan from deep in his throat. I know that groan and what comes next.
"Don't stop." I beg. "Don't stop and tell me we can't make love."
He freezes. His head rises from my neck.
"No. Please. Let's just dance like this."
He jerks his head and squints at his phone on the kitchen counter. I didn't even hear it vibrate. He must have dog hearing.
He releases me and grabs his crotch as he struts to his phone.
Who the heck is sending my man a message right now?
He coughs and returns to me, holding out the screen of his phone. It shows a woman climbing the stairs to my apartment. I scan the bit of her face sticking out from under the hood of her thick, camel-hair peacoat.
Aunt Helen. Why is she here?
"I told you no one approaches unnoticed," he says with a grin.
Aunt Helen hurries out of the wind and into my living room as I let her in. She offers me a tight smile and brief hug. "Hi, sweetie." Her eyes glow with affection but exhaustion paints the wrinkles around the edges. "Jacade." She acknowledges his presence but without warmth.
"Helen." Jacade sets his hands on his hips and presses his lips together. "What brings you here?"
"I need to talk to both of you." She pulls off her gloves and coat, and I take them from her as she settles on the couch. "Are we clear?"
Huh?
I sit next to her, and Jacade stands on the opposite side of the coffee table, facing both of us. He crosses his arms over his chest and spears Aunt Helen with an impatient glare.
"Yes, of course," he says.
Oh, right. Bugs.
Aunt Helen settles her gaze on Jacade. "My dad's forcing an early vote. He wants to know who will succeed him. The vote will be in ten days."
"Ten days? What the fuck!" He exhales and scratches his head.
"It's his call. He says he's tired of everyone waiting around for him to die."
Jacade paces away from us, and Aunt Helen speaks to his back. "You need to put tails on Bernard and Gerry. Once they catch wind of this, they're going to rev up their scheming."
He spins and glares at her. "No shit?" His shoulders rise and his voice is harsh. "You think I haven't been riding their asses since the shooting?" He grabs his gun and shoves it in his hip holster. "Clueless bitch."
Jacade doesn't even notice the scolding look I give him for talking to my aunt like that. The beast is pissed again. His neck strains. His cock is still hard. He breathes heavy like a bull facing a red cape.
Oy vey. Hottest piece of man I've ever seen. Aunt Helen needs to leave so I can ride the wild bull.
"Jacade, I know you and I have had our issues, but we need to be civil with each other to protect Ivy." Aunt Helen squeezes my hand.
"Agreed," he answers curtly and shifts his feet.
"I can protect myself. Have you forgotten I rescued Jacade?"
They stare at me with slack jaws and blank looks. Did my tongue crawl out of my mouth and onto the coffee table for a handshake? Hello? I tap the fake microphone. Is this thing on?
"You have no concept of the type of people you're dealing with," Aunt Helen says with condescension in her voice.
"Ivy, I wouldn't put anything past Bernard or Gerry." Jacade adds to Aunt Helen's statement.
"Even if it's me?" I ask. My uncle Bernie wouldn't hurt me. Would he?
"Especially if it's you." Jacade's cryptic tone shoots ice down my spine.
Aunt Helen addresses Jacade. "Make sure to keep Ivy clear of Raymond. He can never meet her. He will surely see Vera in her features." She cups my face in her hand. "I know I do."
"Hold on. Raymond is on his deathbed. How the hell is he cognizant enough to demand an early vote?" Jacade asks.
Aunt Helen chuckles. "He's more aware of what's going on than you think."
Silence falls in the small living space as we all retreat within to contemplate the news Aunt Helen has brought to my door.
Aunt Helen pops up and puts on her coat. She tightens her belt and says, "I need to go and take care of a few matters." She clutches my shoulders and stares into my eyes. "No ditching Jacade or Shane."
"He's already given me the same speech, Aunt Helen." I roll my eyes at Jacade.
"Now you're getting it from me. This vote is going to stir up some skeletons and unfortunately you're one of them. I love you."
"I love you too."
She kisses my cheek and heads to the door. She turns and aims her gaze at Jacade. "If it's you or her?"
"Not even a question. Always me," he answers.
She nods and tugs her hood over her head as the front door closes behind her.
He sighs and ambles around the coffee table to sit next to me on the couch. He focuses on his interlocked fingers between his legs. "This is a mess. Ten days is nothing. I thought I'd have more time, but yet again, the rug is pulled out from under me and I'm forced to face this shit unprepared. The vote changes everything. I was waiting until you recover. Until Raymond dies. Always waiting. Now it's here in my fucking face and you're not even healed yet. It's all happening too fast." He rubs his eyes and growls.
"What did she mean by you or her?"
His gaze scans my face and settles on my lips. "She wanted to make it clear, I save you and not myself."
"What? No!" My crazed yell bounces off the walls.
"I'm not someone worth saving. What you said in Viktor's cell was true. I'm a ghetto thug."
"I'm sorry I said that. I had to lie to get you out of there."
His eyes close and he mumbles. "No. Leo was so right. My life's a sham. My soul is damned."
I trail my fingers through his hair above his ear. "Hey, hey, hey. Leo was wrong. Your soul is priceless. You're my someone to save." My tender tone doesn't halt his conviction.
He glances at me. "No matter how the vote goes, you have to remove yourself from my life. I'm not man enough to tell you to go, because my entire being doesn't want that to happen. The only way for you to have a sheltered life is for you to forget all about me."
What the hell? "How much wine have you had?"
"I'm not drunk. I'm thinking clearly. I have nothing to offer you." His shoulders slouch, and he glares at his shoes.
His words evoke a memory, but I can't pin it down. Wait. He said the same thing when he told me the story of his bargain with Bernard. God, has this man spent his whole life believing he has nothing to offer?
"You have everything I want." My voice cracks.
He shakes his head and looks at me. "You don't get it." Agony swirls in his eyes. He presses his lips together and stands. "You need to experience this shit. Get dressed. Dark colors and a hat."
I stand and look up at him.
"No heels," he says low and fierce. He dips his face and holds my gaze. "No wedges either."
Uh oh.
Chapter 12
Jacade
Ivy and I sit in her Challenger looking across the street at the weathered brick building known as the track. With two burner phones in my hands, I call one with the other and mute the second one.
"Here. Yours is muted, but you'll be able to hear me," I say while handing it to her in the passenger seat.
"Why can't I come in with you again?" She glances at the screen then peers past me to the track.
"The only women in there are spreading their legs for money."
"I thought men came here to gamble?"
I blink at her. What does she think men do while they gamble? Women. Lots of women.
"They do. They also come to fuck."
She sucks in an uneven breath, and her breasts rise and fall under the tight, black turtleneck she's wearing. She touches her glossy lower lip and adjusts the funky felt hat on her head. Turn off the goddamn cute and sexy rig
ht now, Ivy. I need to fucking concentrate.
"If you lose the call, something went wrong. Floor it and get the hell out of here. Shane'll follow you."
She arches her neck and looks out the back window. "I didn't see Shane."
"Exactly."
"I'm not leaving without you," she says with a stubborn pout.
"Bullshit. You leave. Follow orders, Ivy. It's the only way to survive out here." I check the chamber of my Sig and glare at her in the darkness of the car. Her eyebrows pull together. "No worries. They won't fuck with me." I raise my pant leg and flash my smile as I show her the Glock and knives strapped to my right calf.
She sighs and looks out the windshield.
I exit the car and poke my head in before closing the door. "Slide over. Keep the engine running."
She works her way over the center console and into the driver's seat. I watch her breasts jiggle and her ass stick out in the air during her awkward climb.
She plops behind the wheel and says, "Just be careful," with a sigh.
"Only for you, love."
"Check your gun."
She pulls her pistol from her purse and racks the slide. Her limp wrist rests on the seat next to her right thigh with the gun pointed forward. I need to get her to the range for more practice.
"Both hands. Hold it ready at your hip."
My words seem to snap her out of her lackadaisical mood. She sits up straight and assumes a decent grip.
"Better. Stay in the car. It's armored and fast. You're safe in here."
"Okay." Her forehead wrinkles, and she pulls her lips between her teeth.
I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand. "Ivy, I've been doing runs like this since I was eighteen. I'll be fine."
"Famous last words." She twists her head and kisses my hand.
Before I leave, I motion for her to lock the doors. They click locked, and she blows me a kiss. I wink at her and jog to the alley across the street.
Bang-bang-bang.
My fist rattles the metal door of the side entrance to the track.
Bang-bang-bang.
