by Monica James
There is absolutely zero effort on my side, but Tawny is oblivious as she moans into my mouth, her tongue burrowing deeper and deeper. She presses her chest to mine, attempting to coax me into reciprocating.
But there is no way that is happening.
She’s the one who’s imprisoned with her back pressed to the wall, but I suddenly feel trapped. When she drapes her arms around my neck, I grunt, but it’s not in arousal. It’s from needing to get the fuck away from her.
She is too much—too clingy, too warm, too desperate, kissing me wildly, but I feel nothing, nada unlike when I…holy shit. The only other kiss I can compare this to is the one I shared with Tiger. Thinking of her plump lips, supple body, and delicious smell, I respond in a way that surprises me.
I kiss Tawny back.
Although it’s not her lips I want, my body remembers the way Tiger felt and craves for a release. Threading my fingers through Tawny’s hair, Tiger’s last words spoken to me spark to life, and my desire turns to fury.
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t matter.”
Even though she’s right, I can’t stop this hollow void inside me from growing bigger and bigger. And I act out the only way I know, the only way I’ve conditioned myself to behave.
My grip on Tawny’s hair tightens, dealing with this dead weight festering inside me. I pull, yanking her head back at an awkward angle but continue to kiss her. She nibbles on my lip and tongue, so I bite hers back—hard.
She whimpers, surrendering way too easily, which bores me. I want a challenge. She allows me to kiss her without remorse, dominating her lips and body any way I please. Her tongue darts in and out of my mouth, trying to duel with mine, but she’s no competition. Her taste, her mouth, her…she isn’t what, who I want. She is like watered down vodka, and when I realize why that is, I growl in anger, pinning her even harder to the wall.
She doesn’t stir a carnal hunger within, nor does she do what I thought impossible…she doesn’t make me feel. Tiger, however…does. I don’t know what she makes me feel, but at least it’s something. I’m dead inside; let’s not mistake me for anything other than a man living with one sole purpose in life. But since I met her, Tiger has made me feel something other than this emptiness that has plagued me for fourteen fucking years.
Goddammit. I want bubblegum kisses, not this lackluster embrace.
“Oh, fuck, sorry! I didn’t realize—” A stunned voice snaps me to the now, and I sever my kiss with Tawny.
She whimpers, attempting to nuzzle her nose against mine. But I don’t nuzzle or cuddle. I don’t even kiss. But Bae’s wide eyes and gaping mouth reveal what a liar I am.
I instantly let Tawny go, feeling nothing but disgust at myself. She, on the other hand, looks victorious. When I see her red, puffy lips, the lips I just defiled, the need to flee just about suffocates me. I don’t bother saying goodbye to either woman as I make my way toward the door. I may appear aloof, but as I exit, I hang my head in…shame.
Shame.
Another feeling I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Bull
For three fucking days, I’ve tailed this motherfucker. And for three fucking days, I’ve had to stop myself from running him over with the truck I borrowed from Lotus. I still don’t have my license, but I’ll rectify that soon.
Lotus has been very generous and paid me more than she should have. I think it might be hush money, but she has nothing to worry about. I don’t snitch. Besides, my hands are full with plotting ways to kill Kong. I have dreamed of this moment for so many years, and now that the reality is within reach, I feel like a kid in a candy store.
Stabbing. Shooting. Hanging. Drowning. Dissection…while still alive. The possibilities are endless. Lachlan’s death was merciful. He didn’t suffer enough. But I’ve learned. He was a trial run. And now, I am a master of all things torturous and bloody.
Between my shifts at work, I’ve come down here to Gumbo’s Gym or followed Kong to work. Stevie wasn’t kidding when he said he moves around. He doesn’t even appear to have a fixed location for his office. But he’s smart. A moving operation is hard for the cops to find, which has me thinking.
I need a kill site.
I can’t exactly take Kong back to the motel. Venus is anal about smoking in the rooms. I imagine she wouldn’t be too impressed with severed limbs in the bathtub and blood splatter on the walls. But abandoned buildings are common in Detroit. I just need to find the right one.
So much planning is needed, which is why I have my notepad rested against the steering wheel as I detail everything that needs to be done. With Elvis’s “Don’t Be Cruel” sounding softly over the radio, I jot down possible locations and dates for this to all go down.
Gumbo’s has wide windows, which allows me to look in and keep an eye on Kong. I don’t want him to see me, so I maintain the upper hand. The element of surprise is the key ingredient to ensure this goes off without a hitch.
Keeping busy, doing what I do best, has been a welcomed distraction. After the incident with Tawny, I’ve been laying low. Tiger isn’t back yet. I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I wanted to know where she is or how she’s doing. And if she’s still angry with me.
This is still so foreign to me. Planning murder is easier than dealing with whatever this…feeling is in my stomach whenever I think about Tiger.
As for Tawny, she thinks I’m playing hard to get. But I ain’t playing. When she tried to kiss me again, I made it clear it wasn’t happening. If she couldn’t take the hint when I told her this, then that was not my problem.
Staring down at the page in front of me, I groan when I see I’ve unintentionally written Tiger’s name instead of Kong’s. This needs to stop. I need to be on my A game, and when I see Kong walk to his huge pickup, this is a perfect example of why.
I didn’t even notice him leave.
Quickly writing down the time in my log, I sink low in my seat, not wanting him to see me. I’m parked across the road, but I can’t be too careful. He throws his gym bag into the tailgate and is about to walk to the driver’s side, but then he stops.
He tilts his head to look under his back tire. Shuffling up so I can see better, I watch as he bends down and picks up something small, black, and fluffy. A kitten. His white teeth glow in the dark as he lifts the kitten high in the air.
The image sends a shiver through me as I was once that kitten.
At first, I think maybe Kong has a thing for cats, but when he places the kitten back behind his tire and grabs some kind of protein bar out of his gym bag, it’s clear what he intends to do.
He breaks off a piece of the bar and places it near the kitten. The scrawny thing happily eats the offering, not realizing this is his last meal as there is no doubt Kong plans to run it over with his truck. I grip the steering wheel, breathing deeply through my nose.
The thing is fucking tiny, helpless, and at the mercy of this motherfucker. I’m assaulted by images of that night, of when I too was tiny, helpless, and at the mercy of this motherfucker just like this kitten. But I’m no longer helpless.
“No,” I snarl, closing my eyes and telling myself that saving that kitten is not my problem. But it wasn’t Lachlan’s problem either when he could have helped my brother but didn’t. He ran. Like a fucking gutless chump.
And I will be the same if I don’t help the fluffball.
“Motherfucker,” I curse under my breath as I open the truck door and jog across the road. When Kong’s pickup roars to life, I quicken my pace, and before he has a chance to reverse, I snatch the kitten out from under the back tire.
Kong’s brake lights blister red, just like his rage as he slams the truck in park and jumps out. “What the fuck, asshole? You got a death wish?” he exclaims, arms spread out wide.
Yes, I wished you were dead.
He approaches me while I freeze. I can’t even breathe. After all these years, I’m face to face with one of my brother’s killers, and I’m holding a fucking kitten…which
is the perfect ruse. This just may work in my favor.
“Sorry, man, this fluffball is my meal ticket, and when I say meal, I mean pussy,” I crudely say, holding out the cat. He purrs in support.
Say the magical word—pussy—to any dickhead, and you’re instantly best friends. Kong eyes me, folding his arms across his chest. He’s weighing me up. Am I friend or foe? Or more importantly, has he seen me before?
He examines me closely, looking into my eyes, the only thing that would have given me away. But thanks to the blue contact I wear, I am just like everyone else now. I must pass his test.
“Your bitch busting your balls too?” he says as though we’re friends in some secret club.
“Don’t they all?” I snicker with an eye roll.
Tawny said Kong spends more time at the gym than at home, and I figure she knows this because he’s taken her here to work out in a different way. He clearly has no respect for women, which is why I’ve decided to use this angle.
“Fucking oath, brother. I’m Kong.” He extends his hand. Every muscle in my body is demanding I break his wrist, just as his friend did to Damian.
But it’s because of that, that I shake his hand. His handshake is firm, throwing down the testosterone vibes. He wants to establish himself as alpha. He can establish whatever he wants because when this is done, I will be the alpha when I end his fucking life.
“Tommy,” I reply, giving him the most generic name I can think of.
“You new ’round here? I haven’t seen you before.”
“Yeah. I just moved from Seattle. My kid’s mom lived there, so ya know, I split.”
Kong cackles because, apparently, abandoning your family is a cause for laughter. The need to end him is too tempting. I don’t trust myself. But now isn’t the time. “I better go. Pussy is waiting,” I say.
Just as I go to turn, he stops me. “If you ever need work, call me. My boss is always looking for…talent like you.”
Talent. He means fighters. And just like that, a plan is hatched.
“Sounds like your boss is a smart man.”
Kong walks to the tailgate and reaches into his bag. I stand perfectly still. When he produces a white card, I accept it. Looking at it, I find just a number printed on it. “That’s where you can reach me…for now.”
Not only do they change locations often, it’s apparent they change phone numbers as well.
“Done. Thanks, Kong. I’ll see you around.” And I mean every single word.
Without lingering, I turn and walk down the street. I can’t get into my truck because this kitten is supposed to be for a girl who lives around here. And I also don’t want him to know what I drive. I turn the corner, listening for the obnoxious roar of his engine.
When it fades into the night, I sigh in relief and lean against a brick wall. Adrenaline courses through my body, and I don’t ever remember feeling this alive, which is ironic, considering what I plan to do to Kong.
He’s given me my in. If I fight, I gain his trust. And gaining his trust allows me to find the whereabouts of the other two assholes. Lotus will only be a problem if she finds out, but she won’t. Only when I earn his trust will I attack. The poetic justice behind it is just too tempting to pass up.
The kitten squawks, reminding me that he’s still here. I don’t need him anymore, so I lower him to the ground. “Thanks for helping me out back there.”
But he looks up at me, before rubbing his small head around my ankle. “What the fuck are you doing? I don’t have any food. Shoo. Go, be free.”
But he doesn’t move.
I don’t know what he wants, but it’s not my problem. “Survival of the fittest, Fluffball.”
I take off down the street, but when I hear another squawk, I look over my shoulder to see the kitten following me. “What the hell, man? Are you lost?”
He merely walks toward me and sits beside my feet. I don’t even like cats. I mean, what do they do other than sleep, shit, eat, and demand attention on their terms? My cell chirps, and when I see it’s Lotus, I arch a brow.
I’m not due in to work for another couple of hours as I’m working the graveyard shift. “Sup?” I answer, wondering what’s wrong.
I instantly hear catcalls and rowdy assholes in the background. “Sorry to call, Bull. I know you don’t start for another couple of hours.”
“What’s up?”
Her pause is all the answer I need. “It’s Lily—”
“Be there in ten.” I hang up before she even has a chance to finish her sentence.
Peering down at the fluffball at my feet, I groan before picking him up by the scruff of his neck. “This is a one-night only deal.”
With cat in tow, I sprint to my truck, ready to save someone else.
Having no clue what cats eat, I leave Fluffball in the truck with some jerky and water. I take out my contact as I don’t want to give anything away. The club is packed, which is a good thing for Lotus. As for me, it makes it fucking impossible to push through the drunk dickheads who are hollering over Bae up on stage.
I shove them aside and make a beeline straight for Lotus who is behind the bar. When she sees me, she gestures with her head toward the dressing rooms as she continues pouring beer. I have no idea what I’ll find, so I quicken my pace and charge down the corridor.
I practically barge into the room, ready for any scenario. However, when I see Tiger sitting on the sofa with her knees drawn to her chest and her mascara running black tears down her cheeks, I realize I am ready for anything but this.
I jar to a stop, unsure what the hell is going on.
Tiger lifts her eyes, and when she sees me, she quickly wipes away her tears with the back of her hand. I stare at her, dick in hand, because what the fuck am I supposed to say? Maybe I jumped the gun when Lotus called. I just didn’t think, which again—a rookie move. The need to get here overrode good sense, which was my bad because now I look like a fucking chump.
“Did your cat die?” I blurt out, before cursing my sorry ass.
Tiger purses her puffy lips in confusion, which is a reasonable response because why the hell did I just ask her that? I don’t know what’s upset her. Her cat dying seems like a probable cause.
Wiping her eyes again, she shakes her head. “No, my cat didn’t die.”
“Oh. Want another one?” I ask, the words flowing from me like verbal diarrhea.
She continues looking at me as though I’ve gone mad. But been there, done that. Still there.
Finding my balls, I walk toward her slowly, my feet giving me the finger as I have no control over my movements. “I was”—I pause, deciding to leave out the fact I was planning a man’s murder—“out for a run and found a cat. I don’t really know what you’re supposed to do with one, so you know, I thought if yours was dead, you could have this one.”
She blinks once while I wonder if I sound as stupid as I feel.
Something overwhelming weighs heavy in the air. In prison, this was a sure sign a fight was about to break out. But in the real world, with Tiger, I don’t know what it means.
“You’re not supposed to do anything with them,” she replies, sniffing. “They’re cats. They’ll tell you when they want something.”
“Good to know,” I say, rocking back on my heels.
Her red-rimmed eyes fucking stab at me. She looks so…helpless. So sad. I am so confused by all of this.
“You’re so socially awkward,” she declares, and I merely shrug in response. “It’s like you’ve been living on a different planet.”
If only she knew the half of it.
“A normal person would ask why I’m crying.”
“I never claimed to be normal,” I reply without hesitation.
She huffs, blowing the hair from her cheeks. “And what I would answer,” she says, ignoring me, “is that my life is fucking ruined.”
When she buries her face into her hands and her shoulders begin to shudder, I look at the exit, desperate to flee. I don’t
do emotion. I don’t know how. I’m broken. So I stand in the middle of the room, watching her cry, and when she slowly lifts her chin, all I want to do is taste her tears.
“Did you hear what I said?” she furiously asks. “My life is ruined!”
“Stop being so melodramatic,” I state because I can work with her anger. I can’t comfort her like a normal human being, but I can provoke her because when she jumps up and storms over to me, something beautiful is born before my eyes.
“Melodramatic!” she yells, shoving me in the chest. “You asshole! If only you knew the half of it, you wouldn’t be so quick to judge. But you probably don’t care, seeing as you’re too busy with Tawny!”
She’s in her heels, which puts her under my chin, but she doesn’t let the height difference intimidate her. Her green eyes narrow. Her chest puffs outward with her breathless rage. I stand tall and indifferent, waiting for her next move.
“Are you seriously going to stand there and not say a word?”
“You seem to be doing enough talking for the both of us.”
“Ugh!” she groans, her hatred for me making me rock hard. “How can you be such a coldhearted bastard to me, but to her…”
Her pause has me stepping forward, pressing us front to front. “To her what?” The heat from her body burns through my clothes.
“But to her, you…you fucking kiss her! Don’t try to deny it. Bae told me she walked in on you and Tawny kissing.”
“I wasn’t going to deny it,” I counter coolly, putting an end to her rant.
Tiger’s mouth opens, then soon shuts. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she confesses, running a hand down her exhausted face. “Some asshole is out there who can ruin everything for me. After the attack and now this, I’m starting to think it’s time I take Carlos up on his offer.”
Hell to the fucking no. That ain’t happening. Here, I can watch her.
Her admission has me gritting my teeth together. “Who?”
She purses her lips in confusion. “What?”
I don’t have time for this. “Who is here?”
“Some guy,” she replies with a small shrug.
