Anything for Her

by Lola StVil

  She stares into my eyes and after a suspenseful pause, she slowly drops her arms to her sides. I get a full view of her chest. Jesus, they are even more beautiful than I remembered.

  I see the thin scar line under her breasts. It does nothing to take away from how stunning she is and always will be. I don’t have to tell her that because she sees the way I’m greedily looking at her chest. I’m unable to keep myself from licking my lips in anticipation of getting a taste.

  She throws her head back and laughs. She reaches out, wraps her hand around my neck, and pulls me into her chest. I lick the underside of her right breast while kneading the left one. I caress her nipples with my tongue, warm them in my mouth, and suckle them between my lips until they are rock hard. Shay sighs my name as her eyes roll to the back of her head.

  She arches her back so I have even greater access to her breasts, grabs a fistful of my hair, and gives me an order. “Bite me, baby,” she says in a choppy, breathless voice. I do as I’m told—careful to not apply too much pressure. I think I hit the mark because she calls out “OHMYGODYES!” as she latches onto my biceps.

  I can’t take much more; I’m about to lose my fucking mind if I don’t get inside her. But I’m not done. I walk around her and get a 360-degree view of her: my own fucking paradise. I nibble the back of her neck, glide my tongue between her shoulder blades, and lick down her spine. By the time I make my way back to the front, she’s shaking and squeezing her thighs together.

  We get back to kissing, and that act alone sends us to yet another level of desire. I gently pick her up and walk her over to the bed.

  “Logan, now. I need you in me, now,” she says after I lay her face up on the bed.

  “Hang on, baby, I’m thirsty,” I reply as I slide her panties down her legs and part her thighs. I bury my face inside her. She tastes like wonder and sunlight. She grinds her hips into my mouth as she groans.

  The sensation forces her to lift her hips off the bed. She tries to get away from my lips but I can’t let that happen. I need to drink as much of her as I can. She clutches at the sheets and gathers them under her fingers. She twists and turns in ecstasy and begs me to keep going and to stop, all at once.

  I can feel her body on the edge and mere seconds from going over. I reach for the box of condoms in the drawer of the nightstand. I put one on and embed myself where I have always belonged—inside her. We stare into each other’s eyes, interlock our hands, and together we reach a series of earth-shattering orgasms. They roll in one after the other. When it’s all over, we lie in each other’s arms, sweaty, flushed, and euphoric.

  I turn to face her and can’t get myself to look away. She’s absolutely glowing. She smiles playful and says, “What are you looking at?”

  I kiss her forehead and reply with certainty, “The woman I’m going to marry.”

  (Present)

  I know that there is some guy out there, trying to kill me. I should be terrified and on edge. But when I wake up in Logan’s arms, all I feel is peace. Last night, just as we were drifting off, I had a thought: what if this is all some kind of prolonged daydream and none of it was real? Thankfully, it’s not in my head, he’s really here with me and we are really back together. We’re getting married!

  “What is making you smile like that?” he says as our eyes meet.

  “Being here with you,” I admit.

  “I wish it was under better circumstances,” he says.

  “I’ll take what I can get. I’m just glad we are here together.”

  “Me too, babe,” he says as he kisses my forehead. I study him. It’s not fair that he should be so damn hot.

  “I bet you always got what you wanted as a kid—given that face. You had a charmed life,” I tell him.

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “I will have you know that I had a rough childhood,” he says.

  “Oh really, and what trauma was my fiancé exposed to?” I ask.

  “It’s hard to talk about but if you must know, I lost my favorite truck,” he says, trying to sound sad.

  “Aw, poor you.”

  “Hey, it was seriously traumatic for me. It was a bright red fire truck, and for your information, I used it to rescue people.”

  “And who did you rescue?” I ask.

  “Kids that got stuck in a well; families in burning buildings. That’s right, I was the best imaginary rescue firefighter there was—unless the fires happened during my favorite cartoon, in which case they had to wait until commercial break to be rescued.” He laughs.

  “What happened to your trusty fire truck?”

  “Someone stole it. I think it was Cash or Wyatt. They claim to this day that it wasn’t them but I don’t believe it. I think they might have been in on it together.”

  “You think it’s a conspiracy?” I laugh.

  “Yes, a plot to get between a boy and his fire truck. It’s a cruel world,” he says, shaking his head with regret.

  “Speaking of your family, when this is all over, we should go and put some flowers on Rose’s grave—together,” I suggest.

  “I haven’t gone by there in a while,” he admits.

  “It can be hard, I get that,” I assure him.

  “It’s not just that—Rose left something for each of us before she died. And for me, she left me a gift and I still haven’t been able to open it. It’s back at the house.”

  “I didn’t know that. Why don’t you open it?”

  “She said to open it when I’m really happy, guess she wanted to make sure I didn’t get depressed when I unwrapped it. But I was never happy enough to…”

  “It’s okay, Logan. It’s your gift, open it when you feel ready,” I reply, and I kiss him tenderly.

  “We need get up, we leave tomorrow and I want to make sure we have a plan for getting to the courthouse,” he says as he gets up. I reach for my cell and he stops me.

  “Don’t turn it on. Use the burners I got instead. They are in the duffle bag,” he says. “And don’t worry, Kay has your number but she knows not to call unless it’s an emergency,” he adds as he walks towards the bathroom. A few moments later, I hear the shower turn on. I grab the black burner phone in the bag and it rings in my hands. It’s Kat.

  “Hi! I was just going to call you! How’s the planning going? Is everything okay?” I ask.

  I hear screaming in the background and my heart drops.

  “Kat! Kat!” I shout.

  I hear a male voice on the other end: Malone.

  “If you want to see your best friend again, you better do exactly as I say…”

  ***

  Logan (Present)

  When I get out of the shower, she’s standing in the bedroom, clutching the burner phone and shaking. The color has drained from her face and tears well up in her eyes. I walk towards her and find out what’s going on. After Malone called her, he sent her a screenshot of Kat bound and gagged in a metal chair. A hand looms over her, pointing a gun at her head. Malone is keeping Kat at a second location. His accomplice will release her once Shay surrenders herself. If Shay doesn’t show up—alone—he’ll order the gunman to kill Kat.

  The first thing I do is contact Banshee and send him the picture. I’m hoping he can find a clue that that will lead to Kat’s location. Then I contact Wyatt and update him. I have Banshee meet us with an unmarked car. He also brings along the hair accessory I asked for; I hand it to Shay. Banshee wants to come along in case I need him but I decline and tell him his focus needs to be on locating Kat.

  The reason I switch cars is because I’m sure Malone will get Shay to drive to him using his own transport and I need to be able to follow. In the end, I am right; he sends Shay a text and directs her to a rental car lot. He instructs her to get into the dark grey Honda, and the keys are already in the ignition. We hash out a plan and although she’s nervous, she is ready to do what she has to do. She turns to me before she gets out of our car. “Logan, please don’t let anything happen to Kat.”

  “I won’t
let him hurt her or you,” I vow. She reaches out and hugs me tightly. I can feel the stress in her body. I kiss her and quickly assure her that everything will be okay.

  “Make sure Banshee finds her, please,” she says as she opens the car door. Watching her walk away is fucking killing me.

  “Anika.”

  “Yes?”

  “I will not lose you again.”

  ***

  `I update Wyatt but I can’t tell him where Shay is headed because Malone makes her drive around the damn city for over an hour to make sure she’s not being followed. I also don’t trust the police department right now; anyone—aside from Wyatt—could be working for Malone.

  I almost lost Shay a few times but I manage to stay with her. He directs her to a row of warehouses down by the docks. When she pulls up, I am far enough away to avoid being detected. Two guys in dark clothing stand on either side of her with their weapons drawn. On the way back into the city Shay and I discussed what kind of man Malone is, and we both agree he is sick and wants to make sure he’s the one that takes her life. So I know the two goons outside of the car won’t hurt her. She gets out of the car; they frisk her and force her to follow them inside the warehouse…

  I text Wyatt the address and tell him to come with only the guys he personally trusts. He wants me to wait for him but that’s not gonna happen. The fact is, I have no idea what could be going on inside. I can’t risk Shay’s life by waiting. Before I go in, I call Banshee and he tells me he’s narrowed down Kat’s location by zooming in on the picture Malone sent us. Knowing he’s on Kat’s trail frees me up to focus on Shay.

  I get out of my car, and the wind whips around me. It’s gotten colder since this morning and the dark sky hangs overhead. I creep up to the side of the warehouse. The two goons that frisked Shay are walking around the perimeter, ensuring no one interrupts Malone. I wait for one of them to round the corner; I grab him from behind and put him in a chokehold. He struggles but goes down soon after. The second guy is harder to put down. I manage to knock him out but not before he lands a few powerful jabs to my side and face.

  Finally, bruised and bloody, I enter the warehouse. It’s drafty and vast. The aisles are stacked floor to ceiling with large crates and construction materials. I hear Shay pleading with Malone to make the call and release Kat. He’s laughing at her and tells her she needs to convince him. I’m behind one of the crates when I spot them. Malone has a gun pointed at her, and judging by the look on his face, I am certain he never had any intention of letting her or Kat go.

  “Drop it, Malone,” I order as I aim my gun towards him. Suddenly a shot rings out forcing me to take cover. It came from someone in the aisles. He’s gotta have another goon in here with him. I can’t fire back without giving away my position. I carefully check aisle by aisle, hoping to get the drop on the gunmen.

  Malone pulls Shay to his chest and places his gun on her temple. “Come out or I’ll take her fucking head off, right now,” he rages. I don’t have a clean shot. There’s no way I can take him out without hurting Shay. I readjust my position in hopes of getting a better shot. It doesn’t help. Fuck.

  “Either way this bitch ends up dead but if you come out now and drop your weapon, I won’t violate her before I kill her. It’s up to you,” Malone shouts as he scours the stacks to pinpoint my location.

  “YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS!” he demands. I reluctantly come out of the stacks with my hands up.

  Malone orders the last remaining goon, “Mack, take his weapon.” Mack does as he’s told, all the while pointing his gun at me.

  “I was gonna kill you but now I think I’ll have a little fun before that. I’ll make you watch while I beat the crap out of your girl and then put a bullet in her. That’s me being merciful,” he says. “This is me being less merciful,” he adds. He decks Shay in the face, hard. She falls down to the ground.

  “SHAY!” I yell as I watch her body crumble. I move to go to her.

  Mack cocks his gun and warns, “Don’t move.”

  “Malone, you touch her again and I swear to God—” I warn.

  “You’d what? What the hell will you do? You know you act like you’re better than me but I suspect we’re the same. You are just too scared to act on your instincts. If you had some balls you’d take control. That’s all I did. I took control of my woman. I didn’t let her run her mouth like this bitch!” he says as he kicks Shay in the guts. She groans in pain.

  “Malone, you asshole, leave her alone,” I roar. I don’t give a fuck about getting shot by the prick with the gun but if I make a move towards Shay, I have no doubt that Malone will kill her.

  “My wife, Joanne, liked to get beaten. She’d ask for it in a hundred different ways. She’d be late for a function, she’d forget to do her chores, and she dared to question me. What kind of wife is that? I had to beat her in order to teach her. And now I am going to have to teach your woman too. But don’t worry, I’m a very good teacher,” he says as he kicks her again.

  “Malone, you made your fucking point, stop!” I rage.

  Suddenly a sound comes out of Shay, one none of us expected. She’s laughing. “What the fuck is so funny?” Malone demands. She continues to laugh. Mack looks over at his boss, confused. Malone kneels down on the floor, grabs Shay by the hair, and makes her sit up.

  “I said what the fuck is so funny?” he shouts.

  “Hey Mack, did you know that according to his wife, your boss here couldn’t even get it up. And the rare times he could, she could barely feel anything? Do you know what we called him? Toothpick.” She laughs and Mack chuckles slightly. That’s all the diversion I need. I tackle the goon, we wrestle to the ground, and the gun falls out of his hand; I kick it away. He throws rapid, strong jabs to my chest. I strike, using the heel of my hand. It makes contact with his jaw, forcing his head back. I latch on to him and snap his neck. He falls to the side, a lifeless lump.

  Malone fires at me, and I go for cover. Shay pulls out the pin in her hair and stabs Malone in the forearm with it. He cries out and Shay finds her chance to get away from him. She takes off but he snatches her by the hair before she can get far. He drags her towards the back of the warehouse.

  He could have shot her in that time but it’s like Shay said—he’s sadistic and doesn’t want her death to be from a gunshot wound. He wants it done by his own hand. So he takes her inside the back office. He locks the two of them inside and sneers at me though the office window. He picked this spot so that I could watch her die.

  Malone puts the gun aside on the desk so that both hands are free to choke her. Shay shakes her body wildly as her face turns deep red. It takes a few attempts but I’m finally able to break the door down. Malone reaches for his gun. He’s quick. I’m quicker. I fire a round into his side; he falls onto the desk. I run to Shay, who’s weak and shaking.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, frantically looking her over as I help her up. I don’t even wait for her to reply. “Jesus, baby, I thought I’d lost you,” I add, unable to stomach the thought. I know that Malone is behind me. I can tell by the terror in Shay’s eyes. I also know there’s no time to face him, let alone counterattack. He’s behind me, gun in hand. I push her down to the floor and use my body to shield her. He fires three bullets. Two go into the wall just above us and the other goes right into my upper back.

  I don’t pay attention to the pain traveling up my body. I lie still, and Malone thinks I’m dead; I could very well be but not before I take him out. I listen for Malone’s footsteps. He’s gonna want to shoot Shay up close. I hear him coming. I focus all my pain and agony into gripping my gun.

  “Say hi to Joanne for me,” Malone says. I turn around and fire three rounds into his chest. Malone goes down with a thump. He’s dead. I see flashing lights all around us. Wyatt is here. Shay looks at me with fear in her eyes and calls out my name. The room begins to fade. I can close my eyes; she’s safe now…

  (Present)

  When I wake up, I find myself in a hospital
bed. Shay is the very first person I see. She takes my hand in hers and kisses my forehead.

  “I don’t know what you were trying to do, Logan, but even death won’t get you out of marrying me,” she jokes as tears fall down her face.

  “Oh well, can’t blame a guy for trying,” I reply, suddenly aware of the dull ache throughout my body.

  Shay notices me wincing. “The bullet missed your spine, thankfully. They were able to get it out but you’ll feel like hell for a while. That’s what the doctor said. I was too busy praying you’d be okay to listen closely,” she admits. I ask her about Kat and she tells me Banshee was able to locate her and that she’s safe and sound. I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “There’s been some news while you were under. Banshee and Wyatt worked together and they were able to find the source of the leak—the assistant district attorney.”

  “The one who helped you prepare for the trail?” I ask.

  “Yeah, they followed the money and he’d been on Malone’s payroll for over a year now. They arrested him earlier this morning.”

  “Good, saves me the trouble of having to—” I stop midsentence.

  I hear my mom’s voice approaching my room. She enters looking elegant as usual and worried—as usual. “You boys just keep making an old lady worry. You know Ruth Nortel, from my book club? Her son is an orthodontist. She never has to run to the hospital and watch them dig bullets out of her child. Her son loves her enough to be safe,” she says dramatically. Shay laughs and I roll my eyes.

  “I’m so sorry,” Shay says tenderly.