by Alexis Leia
“Stop right there”, Chris ordered him when Sam began retreating.
“You can’t walk out on your dad like this”, Chris said, giving Sam a grin full of pride and happiness.
Sam’s face lit up and he ran to Chris, hugging him with all his strength.
“Thanks for saving me the embarrassment... dad”, Sam said, making Chris chuckle loudly.
‘‘You’re welcome, son’’, he said, and they both started lining up the presents, expecting their wife and mother to show up downstairs any minute.
And in that moment full of peace and happiness, Chris remembered the most valuable lesson: when you have something good in life, don’t let it go. Fight for it, and don’t let it slip. The people he loved meant everything to him, and for once in his life, he was certain of one thing: they were there to stay… forever.
THE END
COMING SOON
BREAK ME (IF YOU CAN #1)
I am Xander Anthony Davis, otherwise known as Mr. X. Ask anyone who knows me, I’m a badass. Working as a law enforcer in my brother’s bounty hunting company, I’ve seen it and done it all, and I’m still not sick of the rush this work gives me. In addition to that, my raw good looks, a killer smile, and a dangerous vibe are a true lady-magnet. So you could say I have a damn good life. Or I did, until she burst into my life, with her smart mouth, grey eyes, and serious gun skills. I always thought I couldn’t get attached to any woman, that I wasn’t made that way. Boy, was I wrong. She turned my world upside down, and I knew the moment I met her she was going to be the death of me.
I am Chastity Melody Rain, but you can call me Chas. My nickname has always been the source of many confusions, but the biggest one ever was life-changing even for me. Coming back to New York City, I was in search of a new job. I’m a trained bounty hunter and a private investigator, who always has to prove her worth in the field run by men. I’m used to being undermined, and my biggest satisfaction is proving them wrong. I took that satisfaction to unprecedented levels when I decided Xander Davis needs to be taught a lesson. There was no way in hell I would fall for such a frustrating, misogynistic, controlling man, despite how hot he looked in those tight, black shirts he wore. Boy, was I wrong. He turned my world upside down, and I knew the moment I met him he was going to be the death of me.
Chapter One ~ Xander
Six months ago…
“Fucking bastard! Get your hands off of me!”
I hear those words so often, they sort of became my nickname. Whenever someone utters “fucking bastard”, I feel personally called out. I don’t really mind it, since they are most often used by lowlifes who love to walk on the wrong side of the law.
“I know my rights! I’ll fucking sue you”, the high-pitched voice of a college student/campus drug dealer grated on my nerves, and I deliberately tightened my grip on his cuffed hands as I led him toward the doors of my second home - NYPD 37th Precinct, located just above Upper West Side.
“The cuffs are too tight, man!” the student wailed and I sighed in annoyance. Seriously, when you sell drugs on the campus, get snitched and then run, only to be caught by a bounty hunter like myself, the cuffs being too tight should be the least of your worries. The biggest worry you need to have is who’s gonna be your cellmate and how many years you’ll spend being their bitch.
“Got another one, X?” a cop standing outside greeted me, and I grinned like Miss Universe.
“Don’t I always, Butch?” I called out to him and walked over to shake hands, dragging the campus dealer along with me. It wasn’t just me bragging, it was a fact. I was the best at my job, you could ask any cop in the state.
“Sure do, man. What did this kid do?” Butch asked and pulled deep on his cigarette. You know how cops look extremely handsome, tall, and well-built in almost every cop TV show? Sorry to disappoint, but the reality is a bit different. The only real connection between TV and reality is their affinity toward donuts and strong coffee.
“Sold drugs on Columbia”, I answered with an eye roll. Butch whistled and looked at the kid, shaking his head.
“Wrong move, son. At least you have the honor of saying you got caught by the best hunter in the state”, Butch told the kid. See what I mean? The best.
“Fuck you!” the student, Robert, half-yelled, spit flying out of his mouth. Honest to God, as arrogant as I may sound sometimes, I’ve always hated disrespect. I grabbed the collar of his sweaty shirt and turned him around to face me, bringing his skinny little face closer to mine.
“Here’s a piece of advice, Robbie. You’ll be spending a lot of time in the cell, and I’d be more respectful toward the cops. We wouldn’t want one or two of your guards hearing how you treat them, right?” I said to him in a calm, collected tone, which made him whimper and shake in his skinny jeans. I let him go with a sigh, grabbing his forearm and taking him inside to finally bring him in.
“I can see why you won’t join the force”, Butch said and grinned, totally approving my techniques. I snorted; I’ve been getting at least three offers a year to join the forces, saying I’d make one hell of a cop. That was all fine and dandy, but the lack of freedom and blindly following the rules was my main issue.
The rush of hunting would need to be replaced by sitting in the office, trying to solve both unsolvable and too solvable cases, and spending years of my life climbing the ladder to the top, which didn’t interest me in the least. Don’t get me wrong: I’ve always loved our forces. They keep the peace and order alive, they work their asses off, and they like me. However, I wasn’t cut out for that lifestyle. You could call me an adrenaline junkie, or if you’re an individual addicted to women’s magazines, you could call me that typical Cosmo bullshit “unable to settle down”. If settling down meant getting married, finding a nine-to-five job, and working until I’m as old as Gandalf in order to pay off my mortgage, then hell yeah, I was unable to settle down.
“See you around, Butch. Lay off the cigarettes”, I yelled behind my shoulder, laughing at the flipped bird I got. I led Robbie inside the station that is typical for every major city - very busy, very loud, and very welcoming. Welcoming to me, that is. For criminals like Robbie, not so much.
“Sit down”, I ordered him and stared him down until he sat down on the bench, close to the main desk, where I had to sign a few papers.
“Hi, sugar! Lovely seeing you here”, Ronda, the officer working at the main desk, said. I gave her my boyish grin as she handed me the paperwork.
“Ronda, did you finally decide to leave Hank and run away with me?” I teased her and enjoyed her girly giggle.
“Oh, honey, if I were twenty years younger, I’d be chasing you harder than you chase criminals”, she squealed, making me chuckle. Gotta love women. Seriously, I loved them.
Robbie decided to use my distraction to stupidly get up from the bench and try to sneak away. As if I wouldn’t notice. Or any of the hundreds of cops milling around. I sighed in annoyance, again, and Ronda laughed as she watched the little criminal making his way behind me. Without taking my eyes off my favorite officer, my arm shot behind my back and caught Robbie, who yelped and tried to squirm away.
“I don’t wanna go to jail”, he wailed.
“You see what I have to put up with, Ronda?” I asked rhetorically before pushing Robbie back on his seat. I leaned down and point a finger at him, making sure my voice sounds especially calm. Just like talking to a toddler.
“If you don’t wanna go to jail, maybe you should stop breaking the fucking law!” I made him cry. For fuck’s sake.
“Sugar, why don’t you go on your way now? I’ll take care of the boy”, Ronda said, seeing how bad I was with kids, bless her sweet heart. I sighed in relief, for the first time that day, grabbed both of Ronda’s shoulders and planted a big-ass smooch on her cheek.
“Thanks, darling! See you soon, and don’t be afraid to call if you decide to leave Hank after all”, I told her and sent her a wink as I was getting the hell out of Dodge. Robbie’s voice trail
ed behind me, as he tried warning me about his dad coming to get me. Rich dad threats - the second most frequent threat I heard in my career.
I walked out of the station whistling. My life was good. I was a thirty-two-year-old badass, I did what I loved, I enjoy every second of my life, I made decent money, and I lived in New York. Nothing beats living in New York. Also, I loved women and they loved me even more. There was nothing like spending a night in a woman’s bed and leaving in the morning. Most women would call me out for that, that I’m an asshole. I’d never deny it. However, I always made it clear to every woman I’d had the pleasure of spending the night with, that I’m not the type for a longer run. One night of mutual pleasure was all I could give them, and most of them were okay with it. Some, of course, believed they were ‘The One’, that magical sort of women who could change me and make me settle down. The truth was, I simply wasn’t ready to be that man, and none of them, as lovely as they were, didn’t manage to change my mind.
My parents would be thrilled, of course, if one day I miraculously decided to change my slutty ways and settle down, especially so since I’m the only of their three kids who didn’t have a permanent relationship. My older brother/boss/partner had a stable, two-year relationship that was headed towards marriage. I liked his girlfriend, but I was kinda sorry for my brother. Before Linda, he was as badass as I was - devoted to his work, being extremely hardcore in catching criminals, and making the world a bit safer place. Not that he was any less devoted to his work because of his relationship, but he significantly reduced the amount of his field work. My younger sister, the baby of our family and a colossal pain in my ass that I loved more than myself, was dating some banking investor for a year. I was happy for her, sure, but the guy was boring and she knew it. The pattern was obvious here - their lives were boring as fuck, I thought. I was always about the ride and not the destination, while my entire family was only goal-oriented. Sure, I always had the ultimate goal in my mind when it came to business: catch the bad guy, get the money, and there was nothing that could possibly stand in my way. Boy, was I wrong.
Speaking of hot rides, I was in love with my baby. A 1966 Mustang GT; a shiny, black beauty with nude leather seats and a powerful V-8 engine. If somebody decided to fire a gun at it, I’d probably intercept the bullet and save my girl. She was safe in my hands, and nothing came before her, except for my family and friends. Again, boy, was I wrong.
My phone rang in my pocket, interrupting my smooth ride. Michael - brother/partner/boss.
“Where are you, Buzz?” he asked, using the nickname I was given when I was a child.
When I was about five or six, I was obsessed with bees and pretending I was one, so I spent my days running around the house in my yellow-black striped shirts, communicating with people only through ‘bzzz’. Xander, are you thirsty? Bzzz. Xander, go play outside. Bzzz. Xander, did you rip the head off your sister’s doll? BZZZ, and run. For three months, I didn’t utter a single word, I just communicated through the bees. Why? Because I asked my mom how babies were made. Naturally, my parents used The Birds and the Bees talk, and my little twisted mind decided it was something like costume playing, like Halloween. I loved the idea of being a kickass bee, so I became one for a part of my childhood.
Good thing I was too young to know how fertilization actually worked, otherwise I’d have ruined a lot of my mother’s flowers. So, the nickname stuck.
“On my way back. Why? Need something?”
“Yeah, bring six coffees and one black tea”, Michael said.
“Who the hell drinks black tea?” I asked in confusion, knowing very well each and every member of our company was a hardcore coffee addict.
Let’s just stop for a second. Have you ever watched Magnum P.I.? Focus on the private investigations part, but sans the Hawaiian shirts and 80s mustache. Now think of Billy the Kid, or rather the person who captured his poor ass, Pat Garett. Now imagine Magnum in the Wild West, doing private investigations, catching bad guys and fugitives, and also getting some nice pennies for his work. Add in a bit of independent government contracts, and there you have it, folks. That is exactly what I do. Of course, in the setting of modern New York City.
Michael started the company eight years ago, and I joined him very quickly. Michael, other three guys who were like brothers, and me were all certified bounty hunters/private investigators/government contractors. If you have a lowlife, cheating husband and needed proof to bring his ass to the court and get what’s rightfully yours, we’re the first ones you should call. We’ll investigate the shit out of him and present you with firm evidence. Even better, if you have a lowlife, cheating husband who also happens to be a criminal, you’d basically give us a Christmas present by hiring us. We’d catch him for you, and if you’re a good client, we’d probably let you have a few swings at him before we got him to the authorities.
Of course, as much as we all love a good cheating-husband-loses-everything kind, we also do more serious and demanding cases. Mobsters on the run, bail skippers, drug dealers, killers… It all depends on who our client is, whether an individual or the state itself. Our company is truly one of a kind, and the legacy we’ve created already is legendary. My job was completely the opposite of boring; there was always an adrenaline rush with each case, no matter how big or small.
Michael used to be really involved in the field work, just like the rest of us, but as his private life bloomed, majority of cases fell on mine, Evan’s, Roan’s and Adam’s back, while my brother dealt with the paperwork, clients, and other shit not one of us wanted to do. We also have a cute little secretary who puts up with our bullshit, but unfortunately happens to be a lesbian. We’ve had quite a few secretaries before Tess, but they all quit. Some of them because of me. Michael said it was because I couldn’t keep my tongue or my dick tucked away, but I had two responses: first, how was I supposed to stay a gentleman, when our secretary decided to bring me coffee wearing a very, very short skirt, licking her lips while staring at me? How the hell could anyone expect me not to look, or touch, or fuck when she pretended she dropped her pen and bent down to pick it up, her ass right in my face? I mean, I was actually pretty good at separating business and pleasure, but sometimes there was pleasure in business and business in pleasure. Meaning, I was Business, and Pleasure were Janie, Kimberly, and Marta.
Second, the rest of the former secretaries just couldn’t deal with five grumpy men, who almost always yelled, growled, and annoyed each other. There may or may not have been some headlocks involved. So, the rest of the secretaries ran away screaming, and that’s not even an exaggeration. Until Michael got tired of our shit, and hired a tough little pitbull Tess. Upon our first meeting, she proclaimed she was a lesbian even before I managed to say my name and since that moment, she became a great friend and an employee instead of a red-haired woman I’d like to fuck. All of this women and sex talk makes me sound like a sex addict, but I’ really not. I loved sex, and I could withstand being without it for a certain period of time, but let’s just say I didn’t really have to rely on my fist ever since my third date with Terry the Cherry in 11th grade. Aside from those little secretary incidents, everything else in our office worked pretty fucking well.
The five of us, along with Tess, were the heart and the soul of M.E.R.A.X. Investigation Office. In case I haven’t mentioned, I really fucking love my job. Moving on, now.
I was greeted with silence on the other end of the conversation. My instincts told me Michael was hiding something, and I always listened to my instincts.
“Michael?” I asked, suspicion evident in my voice.
“Just bring the damn drinks, Buzz. We’ll talk later”, Michael warned. I figured it was about a new case, something we never discussed via phones.
“A client?” I asked him and parked in front of Sandy’s Diner, the best place with a coffee to-go.
“Something like that.”
“Alright then, see you soon”, I said and hung up, knowing very well Michael
would remain lip-sealed even if I continued probing. I stared at my phone, suspicion gnawing on me. However, I wasn’t the type to overthink and make myself go crazy over something. I was the one to react when situation demanded for it. With a shrug and a sigh, I made my way inside the diner to order the coffees and that damn black tea. At the time, I didn’t even think such a thing would influence my life and change it drastically. But, repeat after me: boy, was I wrong.
