Neither This Nor That Box Set 1

by MariaLisa deMora

  Ace nodded at him, then looked around at the faces surrounding them. “Back to business, yeah? Sources say there’s a big shipment headed our way. Diego’s got a truck sittin’ in a boat container, and word is that mother is full up with product for the far north. It hits the port down in Orleans, they got only a couple of route choices, and I expect they’ll travel this direction, heading up through our territory. Wrench—” Ace tipped his head, directing a serious look Wrench’s way, holding his gaze until Wrench nodded in response. “—need you to do your thing, brother. Activate what you need, talk to whoever has a fuckin’ clue, but find the truck. They didn’t ask permission to route this way, and we aren’t about to fuckin’ give it to ‘em anyway. We find it, we torch it.”

  “Burn that mother,” Peanut agreed with a nod.

  Wrench glanced at the men surrounding him, seeing only trust and respect on their faces, then he looked at Ace. Pride shown on the man’s expression and the feeling it generated was so unexpected it took Wrench aback. I worked for a long time to earn it. He shoved his chair back. “I’ll start the net. See what I can scoop up.” Standing, he leaned forwards, palm on the center of the club’s emblem carved into the table. This was the closest CoBos had to an oath, and every man in the room had used the same gesture to underscore an important event, so they all knew what it meant. “I’m a Caddo Hobo, and I’ll work my fingers to the bone for this club.”

  Ace stood, hands on his hips. He eyed Wrench narrowly, then nodded, seemingly satisfied. “I know you will, brother.” Glancing around, Ace grinned broadly as he said, “Start the net, then call Penny. Save Twisted from our girl.”

  Shaking his head, Wrench headed out of the room to find privacy in order to make his calls. An hour later, he flicked a finger at a prospect to get him a fresh beer before dialing Penny, nodding his thanks when the bottle was set near his elbow on the bar.

  “Finally, he calls.” She didn’t even bother saying hello, just opened with that, tone filled with sarcasm. “You know how hard I’ve been trying to get you on the phone, asshole?”

  “You think comin’ at me like that is going to earn you any points, Penny?” He lifted his beer and sipped, then grinned around the mouth of the bottle as he said, “How you doin’, doll?”

  “I’d be better if my best friend would call me back when I need to talk to him.” Real hurt threaded through her voice, and he looked down, staring at the scarred wooden surface of the bar. “You too big and bad now for me?”

  “No, honey. Just…got shit going on.” He sipped his beer again, this swallow going down harder with his throat so tight. “Not an intentional slight, and you know it. If you’d needed me, you’d have texted when you didn’t connect on the phone.” He scoffed, the sound echoing in the silence she left between them. “Didn’t have to sic your ole man on me. Fuck, that musta been a hard call for him to make.”

  “No.” Her tone was flat, bland almost. Forced to be nothing of note, it shouted everything she said was noteworthy. “If he did make a call like that, it wouldn’t be hard. Because he loves me.”

  Well, okay then. She wasn’t pulling back from her anger, so he decided to let it go. “What’d you need, Penny?”

  “I need,” the emphasis was clear, “to know what the fuck is wrong with Po’Boy?”

  That was the last question he expected from her, and his unguarded reaction probably revealed entirely too much. “What? Is he okay? What the fuck do you mean?”

  “You tell me.” Her response was so cryptic he wasn’t sure how to respond. After a moment, she continued, “Po’Boy is Twisted’s brother. Their connection is more than the club, deeper than a prospect’s spewed ‘ride or die’ and you know that. Like you and me, how we go back before everything. What we have now tied it all together, history and present. Po’Boy and Twisted have that.” She paused, and he waited. “Had that.”

  “Penny, what are you talking about?” Wrench leaned forwards, elbows to the table, phone to one ear, head cradled in his other hand.

  “He’s gone. Gave some bullshit excuse nobody believed and rolled out.” Noise in the background of the clubhouse made Wrench look up, and he saw Dismal bringing in a large box, fingers wrapped around either end. Penny said, “Ty, there’s talk I don’t like. I’m in the truck for another two days, and can’t get to him. I don’t know what happened. But I know something did. Twisted is tore up and I can’t get it out of him.” She sounded frustrated, and he winced, knowing how it had to dig at her, not being able to find a way to help her ole man. “Jesus, I’ve fielded three calls about you, too, honey. People are worried about you.”

  “Nothing’s wrong, honey.” Wrench told the lie with a straight face, keeping his attention on Dismal’s progress through the room. There were dark spots on his jeans, like he’d spilled gas on himself while fueling up. “And Po’Boy’s always retreated to Orleans when he needed to, nothing different there.”

  “Why doesn’t anyone know about your girl, then? If you and Po’Boy were in a…whatever you want to label it with that woman, why hasn’t anyone mentioned meeting her?” Penny was tenacious when she thought she had an in, and Wrench knew he needed to shut her down for good. “Why?”

  “Because it’s none of their goddamned business. Who I fuck, or don’t fuck, isn’t anyone’s business. As long as it doesn’t hurt CoBos, then it’s no skin off anyone’s nose.” Wrench lowered his voice. “And it isn’t any of your business, either, Penny. I’m sorry if that hurts, but it’s not. Hasn’t been for a long time. If Twisted wanted a report on Po’Boy, he could have asked me. But I’m betting he doesn’t know the exact why of this call, does he? I won’t be sharing with him unless you push me. Leave it alone, honey.”

  “Ty, honey.” Her words were filled with pain. “You were so happy. What happened?”

  “Life.” Throat tight, the sound of his voice was a harsh whisper. “The life. You know how it is.”

  “Can’t you talk to him?”

  “Nope.” If he had to keep talking to her, he was going to strangle. Die right here, sitting at a table not twenty feet from men who would do anything for him. Anything, but accept who he loved. Wrench forced out another syllable. “Bye.”

  ***

  Crissy

  Driving into the parking lot of the complex, Crissy scanned the spaces for any of Ty’s vehicles and sighed when they were all conspicuously absent. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he’d moved out entirely. Occasional sounds from within his condo put the lie to that. One morning she’d seen Sam sauntering to a car, and after living through that little walk of pain, Crissy had tried very hard not to listen too closely at night, glad her bedroom was on the opposite side of the building from Ty’s.

  He had moved on, that much was clear. Lewis had, too, a little slower, because he at least called or texted a few times in the beginning. Now, four weeks past B-Day—what she’d termed the breakup in her head—not so much. It had been eight days since she’d talked to him, and her last text had gone unanswered.

  Well and truly done.

  She parked and then sat in her car for a moment, trying to summon up the energy to climb out of the car and go inside. At least I’m better now, she thought, trying to convince herself. Desperately trying to not remember back to the first days when her emotions would rocket out of control at the least provocation. Thank goodness her boss was understanding, even if she knew he’d made the assumption her volatility was lingering grief over her sister’s death.

  Bag in hand, she made it up the walk and through her front door. Shoes to one side of the entryway, she dropped her purse and computer on the other, padding barefooted into the kitchen. She moved forward with her plans for another night of a frozen dinner eaten standing at the counter, no desire for anything more elaborate.

  Later, she lay on her side in bed, e-reader in hand, finding herself skimming the same paragraph for the third time. She sighed and sat up, leaning against the headboard and picked up her phone.

  I miss you
.

  So many unanswered thoughts in this text string. I might as well be tossing scraps of paper into a fire. She locked the phone but left it cradled in her hand, and not a minute later was unlocking it and returning to the text app.

  I’m so glad you found love. Glad Bob wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  This had been one of Rhoda’s favorite stories about her husband. How in the beginning she’d gotten cold feet and backed away, but he hadn’t accepted it. He’d pushed against every wall she’d thrown up. Argued every reason she came up with about why they wouldn’t work. She was a southern girl, through and through, and the idea of living in the frozen north had not appealed. But Bob returned to the well again and again, every time getting a little deeper with Rhoda, taking his first victory and turning it into a second, and a third. Over and over until finally Rhoda stood in the front of a church in Minnesota, pledging her life to his.

  Missy’s growing so fast. Maybe I should plan a trip up to see them.

  When she moved back to Louisiana, visiting Bob and Missy often was something she’d intended to do. Staring down at the phone’s screen, she mentally calculated how long it had been since she came to town. Too long. Shifting against the pillows, she glanced at the time and groaned. At least it’s the weekend, so I don’t have to get up early. The bed sprawled out too large beside her. Too large and empty. Her thoughts turned to the last time she’d seen Lewis lying beside her. It was the night everything went to hell, and she remembered every word spoken, every breath he’d taken.

  Their shouting pulled her to the front of the condo and she was watching out the window when Lewis exited Ty’s side of the building, not glancing back. With suddenly airless lungs, Crissy had watched in disbelief when he turned and disappeared into the shadows towards the end of the parking lot, then had seen his profile in sharp relief against the interior light of his truck when the door opened. Lewis climbed in and sat for a moment, head bowed over his hands clutching the steering wheel. Then he straightened and stepped back out of the truck, walking arrow-straight to her door.

  She opened it as he reached the threshold and moved backwards, inviting him inside without a word. He’d crowded her against the wall, closing the door with a push of his heel as he wrapped strong arms around her, seeking solace as much as giving comfort. Face pressed to the side of her neck, he’d offered only two words. “I’m sorry.”

  She’d expected as much. Ty had been firm when he spoke to her earlier, and for all of Lewis’ promises, she knew his attempt for the longshot it had proven to be. What she hadn’t expected was the sudden piercing knowledge she was losing them both. Not until Lewis nearly left without speaking to her, not until his voice hit the air filled with a sadness that coated her soul. Not until his hold on her felt like a desperate goodbye.

  Eyes closed, she leaned into his strength, pulling her dignity and resolve close, steadying her voice so when she spoke the pain was buried. “I know.” Without pausing, she twisted free of his grip and stood on her own feet. Reaching out one hand, she waited, then when he didn’t move, asked for one last boon from this man she’d come to love. “Stay tonight. Give me that.”

  She’d memorized these eyes, so expressive they seemed to show his every emotion, held this face and watched as he’d shattered inside her, kissed these lips even as filthy words of passion poured from that mouth. The moment the words hit the air she saw a multitude of expressions cross his features and took a chance, rolling up onto her toes, reaching to place her fingers across his lips, trying to lock inside the denial she knew was coming. “Please.” Tracing the edges of his mouth with her fingertips, mesmerized by the feel of his skin under her touch, focusing only on the feeling, excluding any thoughts of him leaving. A sharp nod pressed his cheek into her hand, and she smiled.

  Threading her fingers through his, she tugged and stopped, stymied when he didn’t move, then shook her head in amusement as he leaned back to lock the door. She noted he didn’t put the chain on, and wondered if he remembered Ty had a key. Then he was the one leading them towards her bedroom, fingers to the light switches along their way, leaving the space in darkness and shadows, his actions telling her she’d have him this night, at least.

  He set her fingers to his belt, and she understood what he wanted. Building memories to last them past tonight. Focusing on her task, she took her time, not rushing, not wanting it to end but with the driving tension of knowing the reward would be sweet. A sweet frozen moment she would be able to pull out time and again, a comfort for them both. He was shirtless when she leaned in and scraped her teeth across one nipple, causing the first sound to burst from his throat, a full-fledged groan followed by a growling, “Woman.”

  That had given her pause, and she stopped her assault of his skin to arch back so she could see his face. Eyes closed, chin tilted upwards, he stood like one of the poses of Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, arms lifted to the side, feet spread slightly. Hair wild around his face from her fingers, he was living perfection. She didn’t see the scars from a hard life, didn’t see the marks left by his passage through the world. She saw only Lewis, her love. “Crissy,” she told him, the single word a plea, and he opened his eyes and nodded, staring at her and brought his hands to her shoulders, holding her in place as he stepped backwards a stride.

  He undressed her slowly, kissing her mouth often, lips working side to side. He covered her skin with caresses from mouth and fingers, gracing every inch with his touch. She shivered, feeling gooseflesh crawling on her arms and he chased it away with the heat of his palms, stroking down until he gripped her hands, lifting them and matching each fingertip with his own, pressing so they were palm to palm, then he threaded his fingers through, locking his grip and backed towards the bed, taking her with him.

  Once under the covers, they kissed, him on his side next to her, leaning over as she lifted her head and shoulders from the mattress, eager for the connection. “Crissy, my sweet Crissy.” He murmured against her lips, “Gonna love on my Crissy.”

  And he had.

  Every stroke of his hands on her skin etched into her memories. Every brush of his lips blazing a trail to her heart. She was ready for him long before he settled into place above her, hips cradled between her legs, rigid erection pressing against her core. Elbows locked, he stayed like that for a long moment, staring down at her, his gaze across her features almost a physical touch. “My Crissy,” he said when he moved, hips arching back to bring his cock into alignment. “Mine.”

  She pulled in a hard breath as he entered her, filling her. Hands on his shoulders, she looked up at him, seeing his lashes clumping together, much as hers were. “Love me, Lewis.”

  His arms bent, and he gave her his weight with a groan, one hand sliding to the back of her neck, cradling her head to his shoulder as his other hand went behind her, holding tight. “I do.”

  Those were the last words he spoke. Not the last sounds, because he gave her groans and grunts, humming into her ear when she clenched tight around him, thrusting hard and deep to bring her over the edge, grinding the base of his cock into her clit as a final push. Then he lifted again and stared down at her as he plunged in and out, eyes covering every inch of her he could see in the shadows of her bedroom. When he came the expression on his face was fierce, mouth twisting, but he kept his eyes open and on her face, only collapsing on her at the end.

  It had taken a long time for her to fall asleep, cradled in Lewis’ arms. Much later, she woke in the darkness to his hands moving over her, cupping her sex before dipping a finger inside and then bringing it up to circle her clit. He played with her like that for a long time, bringing her to a climax twice before shoving the covers aside and making space for himself between her legs, tongue laving over her clit and thrusting inside. His fingers teasing as he pushed her until she orgasmed again, this one softly intense, driven to lingering shudders by his persistent attention. She groaned and buried her fingers in his hair, tugging his face away when he kept after her, the se
nsation from his tongue and lips, his fingers and scruff too much. Not enough.

  Finally, he crawled up beside her and sprawled on his back, arm flung wide in an invitation she accepted, nestling against his side while he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Covers tugged to her chin, she went back to sleep only waking in the morning to find him gone.

  Smoothing the covers on that side of the bed, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to the empty pillow. “I miss you.” Lifting her head, she stared at the wall standing between her and where Ty probably lay sleeping. She tried to keep the tremor from her voice when she whispered, “I miss you, too.”

  Resting back against the headboard, she picked up her e-reader, settling in for another sleepless night.

  ***

  Po’Boy

  He opened his eyes, blinking blearily at the moonshine coming through the window, and watched as the wind tossed treetops threw themselves in front of the sun’s balance, unsuccessful at blocking out the weak light. Fucking dreams. Pinching with finger and thumb, Po’Boy applied pressure to the bridge of his nose, willing the stinging back.

  He wasn’t certain what woke him. Once the nightmares started in earnest, it could take a lot to pull Po’Boy out of their grip. The terror haunting his dreams had set itself in a tight spiral since things had ended with Crissy and Ty, circling closer and closer with every sweat-soaked wakening. Stomach pitching like he’d spent the day on a shrimp boat on the open Gulf, he’d wake unsure of where he was.