by J. B. Havens
Lying there, he was practically panting like an untried boy. Whenever he was alone like this, she haunted him.
A knock at the door had him cursing. Looking down at his mostly naked body and tented boxers, he wasn’t going to answer. Whoever was there could fuck off. He draped an arm across his eyes and tried to think of something else, anything other than Mic.
The sound of the door opening had him sitting up. “What the fuck?” He shouted before looking to see who was there.
“Having all the fun without me, boy-o?” Mic asked, standing framed in the doorway like a dream come to life. She looked the same, but something about her seemed different. More determined, if that was even possible.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, dragging a blanket over his lower half.
“I would think that’s fairly obvious.” Stepping all the way into the room, she shut the door, and with a loud click, locked it behind her.
“Not to me.” He froze, afraid to move as she walked closer yet, stripping her shirt off as she did. A pink lacy bra cupped her full breasts, showing off the beauty that until now, he had only imagined. Her tattoos swept along her arms and shoulders, adding grace and near heart-stopping beauty. Turning her back, she showed him her wings; chain mail and rivets flowed down each side of her spine until they dipped into her pants.
“Bea. What are you doing?” She unclasped her bra before turning around and throwing it at him. He caught it purely by reflex, the material warm and shockingly soft.
“I’m done, Chris. I’m done telling myself no.” She toed off her boots, her breasts bobbing as she bent over. He was frozen, unable to move. He was scared about doing this and terrified that he would fuck it up.
“Are you sure?” He forced himself to ask, even as he reached for her and drew her down on top of him. He delved his hands into her hair, loving how the curls wrapped around his fingers and clung. Burying his face in her neck he breathed deep, dragging her scent into his lungs in an attempt to keep her there. Without preamble, she slid her hand into his boxers, squeezing him tight.
“What do you think?” He gasped and took her mouth. She tasted sweet and fresh. Reaching down between their bodies, he unbuttoned her pants. Flipping her onto her back, he slid his hands down her soft legs, whisking her pants off. Sitting back on his heels, he stared at the feast before him; every inch of her skin begged for his lips... his touch.
“I think…” He spoke between kisses, making his way up her legs. Her skin was so warm and lush beneath his lips. She tasted so fucking good; he couldn’t get enough, would never get enough. “You taste fucking amazing... I’m going to kiss…” He got to her lacy pink panties and allowed himself to enjoy the view for a brief moment. As pretty as they were, he wanted what was under them. “All of you. Until you beg me to stop. Then…I’m going to kiss you some more.”
With a swift jerk he ripped off her panties. Wasting no time, he shoved her thighs wide and buried his face between them. Reaching his hands up, he palmed her breasts, squeezing and pulling in time with his mouth. Her moans shattered him; her begging nearly destroyed him. Her thighs squeezed his head tight, pressing him closer; her heels clasped together tight behind his back.
Jordon hummed against her and slipped two fingers inside her, curling the tips slightly. Pushing his fingers in and out of her, her muscles gripped his fingers tight. She arched off the bed and came against his mouth, screaming. He drew out her orgasm while she begged him to stop. Her legs were shaking against the sides of his face; her hips were jerking back and forth, trying to get closer and move away at the same time. With one last lick, he let her come down.
He propped himself on one arm, licking his fingers and enjoying the sight of her, loving her face as he sucked his fingers clean. He wanted her to know he loved her taste, that he would be eating her often. She was flushed and a little sweaty. Her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breaths.
Moving over her, he brushed her hair off her face. No words were necessary in this moment as he kissed her tenderly. The force and duration of her orgasm had her relaxed around him. Her skin felt so right, so good against his own. Her breasts were smashed against his chest; her arms pulled him closer, urging him to fill her. With a smooth motion he did just that, sliding deep inside and fitting him perfectly.
This woman was made for him…
Jordon jerked awake, breathing hard. He looked around frantically, searching for Mic. She was gone. It had seemed so real. He could feel her skin, smell her on his hands and face.
What the fuck was happening to him?
****
I stripped and stepped into the shower. Leaning my head forward, I watched the blood turn the water pink as it swirled down the drain. I stood that way until the water turned cold. Washing quickly, I dried off and didn’t even bother to dress. I curled up in bed, wrapping the quilt tight around me.
I let my thoughts drift and swirl as I tried to fall asleep. Almost instantly, my thoughts turned to Chris. I relived the kiss in the gym, every second... every press of his hands on my body. I let myself dream of what could be and what I really wanted, not just what I was forced to settle for.
Shoving useless thoughts aside, I rolled over and instead considered the Vega cartel. They held immense sway over their local village and the people there. The lives of all those innocent people hung in the balance, swinging like a pendulum. I feared that a misstep on my part would cause that pendulum to swing wide, crashing into the village and dragging those people to their deaths.
Chapter 13
Adolfo Vega stood in front of the large bay window in his study. Smoking a cigar, he waited for his lieutenant’s report. The situation in the States worried him. He had given his word to Mercedes that Diego would be avenged. If it wasn’t for the blood debt to a family member, Adolfo would not even bother. Getting involved in any feud was incredibly bad for business—but one with the Americans? They would be lucky to escape with their lives. A knock interrupted his thoughts.
“Enter.”The man who came in was as sharp mentally as he looked physically. In a custom tailored three piece suit, Julio Vega was a cousin from his father’s side. Behind that smooth veneer lurked a psychopathic murderer. Having a man like Julio on the payroll was advantageous, but he had to be handled correctly. Adolfo kept him on a tight leash; but just like an attack dog, he must be cut loose occasionally or he would lose his ability.
“What news do you have for me, Julio?” Turning from the expansive view, he ground his cigar out in a lead crystal ash tray. The sun shone through the crystal, throwing glimmering rainbows across the maple desk. “I hope you are here to tell me that Beatrice Michaels has taken her last breath.”
“No, sir. Our team was eliminated. All dead.” Julio’s calm voice cut through Adolfo’s own cool exterior. His temper rose, hot anger bubbling to the surface. Adolfo picked up his Zippo. It was a souvenir from his boyhood mentor. Flicking it open and closed, over and over... he began to pace.
“How?” Adolfo had his suspicions, but he needed to hear it from Julio. Stopping in front of the man, he flicked open the Zippo with this thumb and spun the flint in a smooth motion. Adolfo stared at the mesmerizing flames dancing in front of his eyes. He forced himself to look away and instead held the flame close to Julio’s perfectly trimmed goatee.
“They beat us there. My men were waiting, but that bitch and her fucking mongrels were ready for us. Killed everyone and got the woman out.” Julio moved back slightly, he didn’t want his goatee to get singed. The smell of burning hair filled his nose, despite his efforts.
“We need to send another message. Get me on a plane to Ohio.” Adolfo walked away. If he was going to Ohio to have some fun, he needed to get his kit ready. “Help me take down Steel, Julio, and you can have the bitch to do with as you please.”
Julio’s excited grin looked out of place; the manic within him was peeking out, eager at the prospect of coming out to play. “Are you sure you want to risk yourself by going personally?�
�
“Yes, this is something that I need to do myself. The message I intend to deliver is one I excel at sending.” Adolfo left the study, heading to his garage and the toys there.
****
I had just finished my run and was stretching on the mat covering the bare concrete where hours ago, had been slick with blood. Dr. Hamilton had reported to me earlier that Armando was recovering quickly and other than a few scars, he would have no lasting damage from the torture.
I spread my legs wide and bent to one side; grasping my foot, I put my forehead to my knee. Switching to the other side, I repeated the motion. I was tense and worried, so I thought yoga might help. I moved onto my hands and knees and began cat and cow. Arching my back, then bowing it out, I let my body go and breathed deeply.
I was in down dog when I heard footsteps behind me. I looked between my legs and saw Jordon. He had stopped walking and was just standing there, not even trying to hide that he was staring at my ass.
“Can I help you with something, Corporal?” I snapped at him as I stood.
“Uh... yeah…sorry,” he stuttered. Jones and Jackson want you... in the war room. The others are already there waiting.”Grabbing at towel from the rack, I wiped my face and draped it around my neck. “Close your fucking mouth, Jordon. You look ridiculous with your tongue hanging out.” I added a little strut to my walk as I passed him. If he wanted to stare, I’d give him something to stare at.
I didn’t wait for him as I hit the button for the elevator. He ran in just as the doors were closing. We didn’t speak on the short ride up, but I could feel him staring at me. I decided then and there, that when this mission was over, when my aunt was safe... I’d deal with Jordon once and for all.
Entering the war room, silence greeted me. The kind you get when you interrupt a conversation other people are having about you. I could feel them all thinking ‘oh shit, did she hear us?’
“Spill it. What the fuck is going on?” The tension was so thick I could taste it.
“Sit down, Mic,” Jackson said. Dread lined his voice like lead lines a coffin. “We’re just waiting for your aunt,”
Aunt Beatrice came in just then, sitting next to me without having to be told. She raised an eyebrow at Jackson and when he ignored her, her foot began to tap beneath the table.
What the hell?
I needed to have a conversation with her and figure out just what the fuck was going on between her and my Master Sergeant.
“Jones, bring it up,” Jackson ordered.
The computer tech swiveled around in his chair and tapped a few keys. The monitor came to life above us. At first it was just black and grey blobs; every few seconds it cycled and zoomed a little closer.
“What am I looking at?” I asked.
Aunt Beatrice’s gasp beside me jerked my eyes back to the monitor. “That’s my house. What are those men doing to my house?”
She clutched my hand as we watched the feed slow down, capturing every horrifying detail. Masked men smashed the windows apart and threw Molotov cocktails inside. One man stood apart from the others, smoking a cigar and watching the curtains catch fire. He slowly walked closer, playing with something in his hand. It was too dark to make out exactly what it was.
The masked men streamed past the lone figure, urging him to follow with hand gestures. He ignored them, and stood there watching the flames consume Aunt Beatrice’s house, the same house she raised me in; the same house she had shared with my uncle.
She dissolved into tears, sobs wracking her body. I wanted to join her. Jackson stepped forward and drew her to her feet. He wrapped his big arms around her and held her close, cradling the back of her head with his giant hand. She just sobbed harder and clung to him.
I pushed the development of my aunt and Jackson to the side. I’d worry about her heart later. Right now, I needed to worry about her life. “Jones. Tell me.”
“I’m running facial recognition now, but I can pretty much tell you that man is Adolfo Vega. He came personally to burn your aunt’s house down.” Jones’s fingers were flashing across the keys: windows were popping up and closing faster than I could keep track of. “Looks like he’s a pyromaniac. Fucker has been a fire bug for a long time. This cartel has a lot of arsons linked to them.”
He flipped through pictures of burned homes, warehouses, and worst of all... people. Photographs filled the screen of people spread-eagle on the ground; their arms and legs were tied with ropes, and staked into the dusty earth. They were set on fire while they were still alive. Charred bodies forever screamed in pain, their blackened skin stretched and cracked open. Bones showed in places, and the clothing that remained was melted into their skin.
“It’s going to be a pleasure to kill this motherfucker,” Rook said, startling us all.
“How much longer do we have to wait, Jackson? How much more does this bastard have to do before we can cut his fucking head from his damn shoulders?” I advanced on him, anger rising and wiping away my reason.
“Bea Michaels, you stop right there.” Aunt Beatrice placed a hand on my chest, stopping me from wringing Jackson’s neck. “This man has his orders, same as you. I’m in agreement, screw the orders... but you can’t do that.”
“With all due respect, ma’am, no. We’re going, with or without government sanction.” Jordon had spoken my mind. I nodded to him, checking the faces of the others. They were grim, but determined. Jones stood, as did Rook and Pierce. We formed a wall of righteous fucking indignation.
“Master Sergeant, no more fucking around. We need to go,” Pierce spoke up.
“What they said. Sorry boss.” Flynn chimed in as well. They were a solid presence at my back. Rook didn’t speak, just stood with us.
“Go. Get whatever information you need from Armando. GO!” Jackson shouted, pushing us from the room and into action.
Aunt Beatrice grabbed my arm, stopping me as I tried to follow the men out.
“You come back to me. You hear me, young lady? I expect to see you in the same condition as when you left.” I hugged her, squeezing her hard and breathing in the scent of her perfume.
“I will. You want to tell me what’s going on here?” I tilted my head at Jackson. She blushed from her neck up. She smoothed my hair, trying in vain to put it in some semblance of order. “Yes... well dear... I may be old, but I’m not dead yet.”
She kissed my cheek and pushed me away. I shook my head at her as Jackson stood behind her, putting his big hand on her shoulder. She patted his hand and stared at me, waiting for me to say something. I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make me a judgmental asshole, so I said nothing.
“I’ll contact the Mexican police and make sure you have secure transport from the airport,” he assured me as I clasped his hand and turned to my aunt.
“I’ll see you soon. Jackson will keep you updated.” I hugged her one last time and hurried out. The others would be waiting for me, anxious for orders... for a plan. But first, I needed as much information as Armando could give me.
Chapter 14
Back in the medical center, I sat next to Armando’s bed. He was sleeping, but I wasn’t about to wait. I shook his shoulder, deliberately choosing the one with the bullet wound.
Groaning, he came awake, but stiffened when he saw me. He was scared and tried not to show it. I guess I deserved that; I was the one who tortured him and I had just woke him using pain. “Sorry. Listen, we are leaving. I need everything you can give me and I need it right fucking now.”
Jones came forward, preparing to write everything down and record it for good measure.
“What do you need, specifically?” Armando rasped. I held his cup of water for him, even bending the straw so he could reach it.
“I need in. What sort of security surrounds the village?”
“There are roadblocks on each of the two main roads going into the town. Men patrol the poppy fields and the area outside the village.” He finished speaking and shifted around, tryin
g to get more comfortable.
“Where does he sleep?” I didn’t think I needed to say who I was talking about.
“He has a large house in the center of town. It was the mayor’s... before Adolfo killed him.”
“What else?” I was rushing him along. I didn’t have time to play twenty fucking questions. The need to finish this once and for all was driving me forward.
“His house is very secure,” Armando explained. “Guards and motion detectors, the works. It will be very difficult to get to him in his house.”
“Then where?” I wasn’t risking our lives more than necessary. The fucker was sure to have a weakness, it was just a matter of finding it.
“When he patrols the village and fields. He personally checks them daily. If one of your men is a sniper, it would be easy.”
I looked at Jones; he nodded. A plan was beginning to form.
“What time does he do these patrols?” I wanted to be settled in place with plenty of fucking time to take care of this bastard and get out.
“Just after lunch. Unless it’s raining, he’s in the village first, then the fields.”
“Thanks for your help. One question before we go. Why the fuck did you let me torture you? Why didn’t you just tell us from the beginning who you were?” This question had been floating around in the back of my head.
“Would you have believed me?” He asked calmly.
“Probably not, but I would have checked it out before working you over.” It was the truth and I saw the moment he realized that. “It’s a good thing you’re not in the cartel anymore; they’ve ruined your faith in humanity.”
“True enough, chica. It never occurred to me to give you the benefit of the doubt. I am used to men who torture for entertainment alone.”
“Get better; we’ll talk soon.” I patted him on the shoulder, the good one this time. “Let’s go boys. We have work to do.”
****
We quickly boarded the jet and flew to the compound, it was faster than driving and time was not on our side. It was a risk, but a necessary one. Most of our gear was there. Sure, we had things we could use at the Wonka House, but one thing we were superstitious about was our weapons.
