CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
I remained outside for awhile, enough to be chilled as I let myself back into
the kitchen. I paused once as I saw Tray sitting at the kitchen table, but then
I knew it was coming. I'd gotten the warning and I was cold and I wanted some
coffee.
I stayed in the kitchen anyway.
"You look very ethereal, in a saintly beauteous way." I drawled as I filled
the coffee pot with water.
Tray smirked, threw his legs up on another chair and leaned back, ever the
image of a sunning tiger. "Taryn took one look at all the booze in there and had
an orgasm."
"Oh the power of cold refrigerators." I mocked.
"I think it was more the fact that we're holed up in a DEA safehouse and
they've got enough liquor to supply a few keggers. That, and…watching you and
Jace hash out whatever you did out there." He paused. "She's hiding in the
bedroom right now. She does that when she doesn't want to deal with who's out
here. That's left to me."
I turned as I finished with the coffee grounds. "What am I suppose to say
here? Am I suppose to defend myself for what I did? Because I'm not. I took your
phone, big deal."
Tray arched an eyebrow, "It was more the fact that you weaseled your way
through Carter, made him set-up his two best friends, and that you lied to
Mandy's dreams that night."
"And this has nothing to do with what I said to Taryn?"
"That irks too." He said softly with his eyes locked on mine.
"You want to see me squirm? You'd have to get in line."
"And you can stop it."
"Stop what?" My hands itched for a coffee mug.
"You hit her where it hurts, everytime."
"I do?"
"Stop the bullshit, Maya, or I'm going to leave this chair."
"Stop the bullshit, Tray, because I've still got my blade and I'm very good
at using it." I returned swiftly.
The coffee was a slow dwindle.
"Fine." He saluted me. "Touche. Taryn doesn't like to be reminded about her
past, so stop bringing it up."
'You had to hide in a corner, didn't you?'
"I bet you never went to the corner." I noted, quietly, as the coffee finally
took up speed. It freely flowed now.
"No, I went." He said evenly and stood up. "I just didn't stay there."
Especially when he threatened a druglord, who'd let him off because he was
really his mistress' son. And the son didn't know…
"Are you going to cry 'wolf' everytime someone mentions Galverson's name? He
took your parents away, right? Didn't they convert to his side, maybe a little
too easily? How's your relationship with your brother? I know that he didn't
show up just to get back your phone."
Tray actually smiled. "You want to go this round?"
"Why not? You got worked for a small con. Deal with it. There's a lot better
cons out there, believe me."
"People like you, I'd just run over them."
"And people like you, I'd just keep robbing. I never went to my corner."
But I had. I'd just convinced myself that five years with Marcus was to
insure Lily's freedom. She'd been safe the first day away, but now…eyes of the
beholder. It's all subjective, but I let myself stay in that prison for five
wasted years.
Tray chuckled and moved towards me. He went for the coffee mugs behind me and
took two out.
The coffee blew it's last breath as I waited, ready, for the scalding hot
liquid to be dumped on me.
Tray leaned beside me, relaxed, as he drawled, "What kind of people do you
associate with? You often expect to be burned?"
"I was led to believe you're this badass who doesn't let anyone get the best
of you."
"Well," Tray mused as he poured coffee into both mugs. "That would normally
be true, but you shot a guy for me, for us, and you're a girl. Not to mention,
that if I harm you, that's going to stir some kindling that's better left
unstirred. And I know very little about you so words aren't going to do the
trick. I don't think you've got an insecure bone in your body for me to let
Taryn pick at."
I took my mug and remarked, ignoring everything except the unstirred
kindling, "You and Jace?"
"I don't like the guy, but I don't have specific beef with him. Plus, I
remember that you disarmed all three of us in that car this morning. I'll take
that into consideration if there really is reason to set things right with
you."
I met his gaze and knew he merely stored it all away. Here's the truth about
Tray. He could've been Jace. He could've helped the DEA, turned narc for his
brother, and yet; all he did was tell 'em to leave him alone. He knew what was
going on and turned his back, choosing to live his life separate from it.
"What changed you?" I asked as I didn't hold my breath. "You were King Tut in
Rawley. What changed you?"
Tray only smiled, "Your beguiling ways don't work anymore."
"Seriously. Was it the media? Or was it the reminder that your parents turned
their backs on you?"
His jaw hardened, just slightly, but I read him right. I hit where the mark
was located.
"Did you lie to yourself? Tell yourself that they had to choose Galverson
because they chose to live instead of being proper parents?" I saw the anger
coming, but I pushed ahead anyway, "I lied to myself…for five years. So I get
it, believe me. I get it."
And perhaps, if I hadn't lied to myself, I wouldn't be standing in this
kitchen, on this morning, with this person.
I added, "And I think you're the biggest gambler in this entire thing."
"How do you figure?"
"You told everyone to 'fuck off' and you walked away. You gambled that they'd
stay where you left them and not many, except one person, would get away with
that."
"I had the evidence on him."
"You did, but druglords don't take kindly to ultimatums. They turn into
pitbulls and they just keep going until whoever's holding their leash is in the
ground. Not on the ground, but in the ground. So…you gambled and you were left
alone. Ever wonder how that really happened?"
Tray narrowed his eyes, shifted away from me, and really looked at me.
A question burned bright, but Jace strolled into the kitchen at that
moment.
He strolled, but I knew better.
"Lanser." Evans nodded in greeting. He filled another cup and left, "Taryn
likes coffee."
I waited until his footsteps led him to their bedroom and the door closed. "I
wasn't going to tell him anything. I was trying, in a weird way, to be nice to
him."
Jace cut his eyes to me, watched for a second, and then chuckled, "You were
playing with him for your kicks, Maya."
"I wasn't."
"Yes, you were and he knows it." Jace glanced towards the ceiling.
Well…maybe a little bit, but… "I can't really help it. If we all went to high
school together, I would've been the wallflower that no one ever saw. He's the
Prom King—begrudge me some poetic revenge here."
Jace chuckled and remarked, "And I was the kid that they expelled and slapped
with enough restraining orders to live their merry lives. They wanted to think
little pieces of paper would keep them safe when they kicked out a gang
leader."
"Little did they know," I teased, "That you were a gang leader with a
heart."
"Yeah, because those come around often." Jace said dryly. He moved for some
coffee and brushed against me.
"How long are we staying?"
"I've got two agents flying in. As soon as they show up, we're free to
leave." He tasted the coffee and grimaced. "This is awful."
"It's what the DEA provided." I shrugged and pushed off from the counter.
"Where are you going?"
I turned, met his gaze, and said the truth, "I need to sleep. I need to dream
about Munsinger and I need to figure out where Marcus would've taken him."
And with those words the playful tone in the kitchen burned itself out.
Jace stood there, somber, and extended his hand, "I need your phone."
"No."
"Maya. Give me your phone."
"No."
And this was when it hit me. The idea had formulated in my head, briefly, but
it wasn't until Jace put a complete stop to it that I even realized it'd been
there.
"You're not calling Marcus and offering up your life for Munsinger's. I won't
let you do it." Jace said flatly, but the fire still burned in him. He'd just
been banking the flames.
"I wouldn't do—"
"You would if you let yourself ruminate about it. And if I left you alone,
but I can't let you do that because I'm a bastard and I have to choose the
collateral."
"So my family is collateral?!" I cried out.
Jace shook his head and stepped closer, "Cassie's Freedom was collateral.
Ben's home was collateral. And yes, Munsinger is collateral. And we have to let
this happen because if we don't…do you know what's going to happen to those
children? We have to put our immediate wants aside for them, for their lives,
Maya. You know that so stop swallowing in your self-induced pity."
"I can't let him just die, Jace." I cried out.
"Then figure out where is he because I'm not letting you do your only other
option. I'm not letting you go back to him." Jace stepped closer, another step
and he was almost touching me.
"Are you going to distract me with sex? Hope that my mind won't still be set
on it after an orgasm?" I asked, cruelly.
Jace grinned, "It'd be a lot more fun than fighting about it."
I didn't say anything. I didn't do much of anything. I just stood there and
Jace backed me against the counter. As his hips leaned into mine and his arms
braced themselves on either side of me, he found my lips with his, but murmured
against them, " 'There might be an ending that you haven't foreseen.'"
I shoved him back and proclaimed, "Don't use my words against me."
"Revenge and self-sacrifice don't get us anywhere, Maya." Jace clipped
out.
"This is why you're a complete asshole at times." I narrowed my eyes, tense.
"You throw everything back around, just so it suits your purpose. Revenge, Jace?
If anything, I'd want revenge on you for telling me that I can't save my
friend's life. And self-sacrifice, that's the biggest bullshit that I've ever
heard. You've been sacrificing your life for how many years, now?"
A wall slammed over his eyes as he commented, flatly, "Don't blame me for
what Mallon does."
I pushed away from the counter and declared, "It wasn't too long ago that you
were just like him. You were him."
The air was full, thick, and yet it couldn't touch me.
"I'm going to shower." I said, chillingly.
Jace stood back and let me leave. And as I left, I wouldn't know till later,
but I left without my phone in my pocket.
I'd just been pick-pocketed by the master.
I crossed the spacious living room to enter the first floor's master bedroom.
A king-size bed stood extravagantly in the middle of the room with two windows
that took up their entire walls on both sides of it. It would've been illegal if
they hadn't been one-way mirrors. The bathroom was just off to the side and as I
walked in, I discovered a whirlpool, shower, and sauna.
Made me wonder who the DEA would house in this safehouse?
After showering, rummaging through my wrinkly clothes that Jace had dropped
on the bed, I found some warm form-fitting fabric that looked like it's price
matched the house's value.
Rich and pretty.
It was a blue shirt that extended over my hands and circled around my
thumbs.
As I pulled on some loose-fitting white pants made of cloth fabric, I slumped
on the side of the bed.
I'd known where the phone was the entire duration of my stint in the shower,
but it wasn't until now that I really thought about Jace's proclamation.
I lifted the phone, heard no dial tone, and stormed out to the living room
where Jace lifted his head, knowingly, from the papers he'd been studying.
"You cut the phone cords?" I exclaimed.
Jace stood abruptly, gathered his papers in one hand and my elbow in the
other. He dragged us all into the bedroom, shut the door, and threw me on the
bed.
"Wha—" But before I could formulate a blistering protest, Jace was on me with
his mouth already exploring.
It only took one gulping breath before everything slammed into me.
We'd nearly died. Munsinger was gone. Jace pinned me on the ground as he shot
above me. Our car had been let loose as we both rolled out from it, only to come
up shooting. Fighting.
And all the word-play, all the hot proclamations, even the banked sarcasm—all
of it was consumed as Jace threw off my shirt and I yanked him back as he was
separated for only a second.
It wasn't lust. It was starvation.
And we both felt it and fought to quench it's denied thirst.
Jace entrapped me against the bed as I shoved against him. We both fought the
other as we sought for our pleasure, but everytime I swept a hand to his hip to
switch our positions, Jace grabbed my hand and twisted it with his as his mouth
explored down my body. He loved every move I made, every technique I used and I
thrived on his own dominance.
It was a power-fuck between us that we secretly had to have.
I gasped, blind to everything else, but him and my needs.
After I'd been thwarted for the third time, I arched my back and attempted to
lift my legs to move him, but Jace took delight as he used the momentary access
to slip my pants and underwear down past my hips.
He held my hips down and moved his searching mouth where I could only shudder
on the bed from the pleasure's captivating torment.
Jace dominated as he had our very first time. He held me captured as I could
only lay despondent to his touch as he slid inside. After the first thrust, then
the second, and until the fury was banked enough inside of me, I gasped and then
I let loose my own terror on him.
As Jace went to thrust again, I shoved at his hips and he dislodged.
And then I twisted out from underneath and straddled him.
Jace reached for my lips when my hips met his again and he slid back
inside.
With one hand on my hip to add his own guiding power, Jace held my lips
captive against his with a hand locked on my neck.
The storm waged inside until the breaking point and I collapsed on his
chest.
Jace skimmed a tender hand down my body to rest on my thigh as he held me
above him, on him.
We both retrieved our breath until the room's coldness slowly creeped onto
us. I don't know how Jace did it, but he kept us in our position and flipped the
blankets out from underneath and over us.
All I cared about was the blessed warmth that enveloped me from underneath
and all around me now.
I slept and Jace was asleep, wrapped behind me, when I woke to the creeping
sunset.
We were still naked and with this moment, oblivious to his observance, I
relished as I studied him in every detail.
Jace was lean, with cut and displayed muscles that were prominent from his
wrists to his calves. High cheekbones, grey eyes, and lips that could've modeled
by themselves, he was captivation, temptation, and dangerous to the eye.
But that wasn't why I was in his bed and that wasn't why I breathed in an air
of gravity that crashed on my windpipes.
Jace was right.
I couldn't offer myself for Munsinger. And Jace was correct, yet again,
because I would've—eventually and with enough time spent 'ruminating' on it.
"We don't know for sure if he's gone." Jace said simply and I was torn back
from my wandering ruminations.
"I know, but I hate thinking of him with Marcus." I got up and threw some
clothes on. After a resigned sigh, Jace reached for his jeans, but that was it.
He left them unbuckled, but pulled the bedsheets over us both.
"Can I ask you something?" I murmured.
Jace smirked. He knew I'd ask anyway.
"It was just formality." I told him.
"What is it?" Jace waited.
"What's going on with you and Taryn? You guys aren't even talking to each
other. Is it me? Is it the situation?"
Jace turned away.
"You can tell me if it's not my business—"
He lifted a finger and dropped from the floor. As he crouched at the corner
of the window, his back muscles tensed to display art, I realized that he
must've had feline DNA for the way he moved.
And then I realized what was going on and I caught the flash of light that
was gone just as quick as it showed.
Jace cursed and commanded, evenly, "Pack the bags. Get your vests and the
guns on." He pulled out my cellphone and dialed a sequence of numbers.
My eyes went flat as I realized he'd taken my phone, but I only asked,
"What'd you do?"
"I called in for reinforcements." Jace replied as he turned, caught my gaze
for a brief second, and moved to dress.
That was all the warning we got.
The first onslaught of gunfire let loose, glass shattered in another room in
the house, and Jace yanked me away from our window just before it shattered.
Jace was off and shooting back before I blinked, but I did and then I cursed
and reached for my own weapons.
I left the room, ignored Jace's choked curse to get back in the room, and
positioned myself at the rear of the house.
I waited, stared, and my eyes grew accustomed to the night sky.
I saw them separate from the snowbank and move towards us. They moved as a
fluid line, molding to the landscape, and each one knew who would lead first and
who would be last.
They were organized and professional.
If they were Marcus', then they were mercenaries.
Until my recent activities, I'd never been involved in a shakedown of this
magnitude. But that didn't mean I was helpless.
A shakedown was a shakedown.
It was an organized mass of events, usually involving violence, that were
initiated with the express purpose of a sum product.
Sometimes that sum produce was money. Other times, sex. Kidnapping. And in
this situation, probably death, mayhem, and all of the above.
If a person wanted to survive where I came from, a person had to learn how to
recognize shakedowns before they started. It was a feel in the air. It was
always abrupt and it was always unsettling. Most felt it, but pushed away the
awkward startling revelation in their mind. Shakedowns didn't make sense to
them, but in my world they did.
I learned to recognize that awkward feeling and call it what it was.
A precursor to my survival.
After recognizing a shakedown was going to happen, exits and evades were
quickly assessed.
Since they'd already opened fire, I knew any evasions wouldn't occur until
the last second, when they were upon us.
And so that meant, we fight.
I remained outside for awhile, enough to be chilled as I let myself back into
the kitchen. I paused once as I saw Tray sitting at the kitchen table, but then
I knew it was coming. I'd gotten the warning and I was cold and I wanted some
coffee.
I stayed in the kitchen anyway.
"You look very ethereal, in a saintly beauteous way." I drawled as I filled
the coffee pot with water.
Tray smirked, threw his legs up on another chair and leaned back, ever the
image of a sunning tiger. "Taryn took one look at all the booze in there and had
an orgasm."
"Oh the power of cold refrigerators." I mocked.
"I think it was more the fact that we're holed up in a DEA safehouse and
they've got enough liquor to supply a few keggers. That, and…watching you and
Jace hash out whatever you did out there." He paused. "She's hiding in the
bedroom right now. She does that when she doesn't want to deal with who's out
here. That's left to me."
I turned as I finished with the coffee grounds. "What am I suppose to say
here? Am I suppose to defend myself for what I did? Because I'm not. I took your
phone, big deal."
Tray arched an eyebrow, "It was more the fact that you weaseled your way
through Carter, made him set-up his two best friends, and that you lied to
Mandy's dreams that night."
"And this has nothing to do with what I said to Taryn?"
"That irks too." He said softly with his eyes locked on mine.
"You want to see me squirm? You'd have to get in line."
"And you can stop it."
"Stop what?" My hands itched for a coffee mug.
"You hit her where it hurts, everytime."
"I do?"
"Stop the bullshit, Maya, or I'm going to leave this chair."
"Stop the bullshit, Tray, because I've still got my blade and I'm very good
at using it." I returned swiftly.
The coffee was a slow dwindle.
"Fine." He saluted me. "Touche. Taryn doesn't like to be reminded about her
past, so stop bringing it up."
'You had to hide in a corner, didn't you?'
"I bet you never went to the corner." I noted, quietly, as the coffee finally
took up speed. It freely flowed now.
"No, I went." He said evenly and stood up. "I just didn't stay there."
Especially when he threatened a druglord, who'd let him off because he was
really his mistress' son. And the son didn't know…
"Are you going to cry 'wolf' everytime someone mentions Galverson's name? He
took your parents away, right? Didn't they convert to his side, maybe a little
too easily? How's your relationship with your brother? I know that he didn't
show up just to get back your phone."
Tray actually smiled. "You want to go this round?"
"Why not? You got worked for a small con. Deal with it. There's a lot better
cons out there, believe me."
"People like you, I'd just run over them."
"And people like you, I'd just keep robbing. I never went to my corner."
But I had. I'd just convinced myself that five years with Marcus was to
insure Lily's freedom. She'd been safe the first day away, but now…eyes of the
beholder. It's all subjective, but I let myself stay in that prison for five
wasted years.
Tray chuckled and moved towards me. He went for the coffee mugs behind me and
took two out.
The coffee blew it's last breath as I waited, ready, for the scalding hot
liquid to be dumped on me.
Tray leaned beside me, relaxed, as he drawled, "What kind of people do you
associate with? You often expect to be burned?"
"I was led to believe you're this badass who doesn't let anyone get the best
of you."
"Well," Tray mused as he poured coffee into both mugs. "That would normally
be true, but you shot a guy for me, for us, and you're a girl. Not to mention,
that if I harm you, that's going to stir some kindling that's better left
unstirred. And I know very little about you so words aren't going to do the
trick. I don't think you've got an insecure bone in your body for me to let
Taryn pick at."
I took my mug and remarked, ignoring everything except the unstirred
kindling, "You and Jace?"
"I don't like the guy, but I don't have specific beef with him. Plus, I
remember that you disarmed all three of us in that car this morning. I'll take
that into consideration if there really is reason to set things right with
you."
I met his gaze and knew he merely stored it all away. Here's the truth about
Tray. He could've been Jace. He could've helped the DEA, turned narc for his
brother, and yet; all he did was tell 'em to leave him alone. He knew what was
going on and turned his back, choosing to live his life separate from it.
"What changed you?" I asked as I didn't hold my breath. "You were King Tut in
Rawley. What changed you?"
Tray only smiled, "Your beguiling ways don't work anymore."
"Seriously. Was it the media? Or was it the reminder that your parents turned
their backs on you?"
His jaw hardened, just slightly, but I read him right. I hit where the mark
was located.
"Did you lie to yourself? Tell yourself that they had to choose Galverson
because they chose to live instead of being proper parents?" I saw the anger
coming, but I pushed ahead anyway, "I lied to myself…for five years. So I get
it, believe me. I get it."
And perhaps, if I hadn't lied to myself, I wouldn't be standing in this
kitchen, on this morning, with this person.
I added, "And I think you're the biggest gambler in this entire thing."
"How do you figure?"
"You told everyone to 'fuck off' and you walked away. You gambled that they'd
stay where you left them and not many, except one person, would get away with
that."
"I had the evidence on him."
"You did, but druglords don't take kindly to ultimatums. They turn into
pitbulls and they just keep going until whoever's holding their leash is in the
ground. Not on the ground, but in the ground. So…you gambled and you were left
alone. Ever wonder how that really happened?"
Tray narrowed his eyes, shifted away from me, and really looked at me.
A question burned bright, but Jace strolled into the kitchen at that
moment.
He strolled, but I knew better.
"Lanser." Evans nodded in greeting. He filled another cup and left, "Taryn
likes coffee."
I waited until his footsteps led him to their bedroom and the door closed. "I
wasn't going to tell him anything. I was trying, in a weird way, to be nice to
him."
Jace cut his eyes to me, watched for a second, and then chuckled, "You were
playing with him for your kicks, Maya."
"I wasn't."
"Yes, you were and he knows it." Jace glanced towards the ceiling.
Well…maybe a little bit, but… "I can't really help it. If we all went to high
school together, I would've been the wallflower that no one ever saw. He's the
Prom King—begrudge me some poetic revenge here."
Jace chuckled and remarked, "And I was the kid that they expelled and slapped
with enough restraining orders to live their merry lives. They wanted to think
little pieces of paper would keep them safe when they kicked out a gang
leader."
"Little did they know," I teased, "That you were a gang leader with a
heart."
"Yeah, because those come around often." Jace said dryly. He moved for some
coffee and brushed against me.
"How long are we staying?"
"I've got two agents flying in. As soon as they show up, we're free to
leave." He tasted the coffee and grimaced. "This is awful."
"It's what the DEA provided." I shrugged and pushed off from the counter.
"Where are you going?"
I turned, met his gaze, and said the truth, "I need to sleep. I need to dream
about Munsinger and I need to figure out where Marcus would've taken him."
And with those words the playful tone in the kitchen burned itself out.
Jace stood there, somber, and extended his hand, "I need your phone."
"No."
"Maya. Give me your phone."
"No."
And this was when it hit me. The idea had formulated in my head, briefly, but
it wasn't until Jace put a complete stop to it that I even realized it'd been
there.
"You're not calling Marcus and offering up your life for Munsinger's. I won't
let you do it." Jace said flatly, but the fire still burned in him. He'd just
been banking the flames.
"I wouldn't do—"
"You would if you let yourself ruminate about it. And if I left you alone,
but I can't let you do that because I'm a bastard and I have to choose the
collateral."
"So my family is collateral?!" I cried out.
Jace shook his head and stepped closer, "Cassie's Freedom was collateral.
Ben's home was collateral. And yes, Munsinger is collateral. And we have to let
this happen because if we don't…do you know what's going to happen to those
children? We have to put our immediate wants aside for them, for their lives,
Maya. You know that so stop swallowing in your self-induced pity."
"I can't let him just die, Jace." I cried out.
"Then figure out where is he because I'm not letting you do your only other
option. I'm not letting you go back to him." Jace stepped closer, another step
and he was almost touching me.
"Are you going to distract me with sex? Hope that my mind won't still be set
on it after an orgasm?" I asked, cruelly.
Jace grinned, "It'd be a lot more fun than fighting about it."
I didn't say anything. I didn't do much of anything. I just stood there and
Jace backed me against the counter. As his hips leaned into mine and his arms
braced themselves on either side of me, he found my lips with his, but murmured
against them, " 'There might be an ending that you haven't foreseen.'"
I shoved him back and proclaimed, "Don't use my words against me."
"Revenge and self-sacrifice don't get us anywhere, Maya." Jace clipped
out.
"This is why you're a complete asshole at times." I narrowed my eyes, tense.
"You throw everything back around, just so it suits your purpose. Revenge, Jace?
If anything, I'd want revenge on you for telling me that I can't save my
friend's life. And self-sacrifice, that's the biggest bullshit that I've ever
heard. You've been sacrificing your life for how many years, now?"
A wall slammed over his eyes as he commented, flatly, "Don't blame me for
what Mallon does."
I pushed away from the counter and declared, "It wasn't too long ago that you
were just like him. You were him."
The air was full, thick, and yet it couldn't touch me.
"I'm going to shower." I said, chillingly.
Jace stood back and let me leave. And as I left, I wouldn't know till later,
but I left without my phone in my pocket.
I'd just been pick-pocketed by the master.
I crossed the spacious living room to enter the first floor's master bedroom.
A king-size bed stood extravagantly in the middle of the room with two windows
that took up their entire walls on both sides of it. It would've been illegal if
they hadn't been one-way mirrors. The bathroom was just off to the side and as I
walked in, I discovered a whirlpool, shower, and sauna.
Made me wonder who the DEA would house in this safehouse?
After showering, rummaging through my wrinkly clothes that Jace had dropped
on the bed, I found some warm form-fitting fabric that looked like it's price
matched the house's value.
Rich and pretty.
It was a blue shirt that extended over my hands and circled around my
thumbs.
As I pulled on some loose-fitting white pants made of cloth fabric, I slumped
on the side of the bed.
I'd known where the phone was the entire duration of my stint in the shower,
but it wasn't until now that I really thought about Jace's proclamation.
I lifted the phone, heard no dial tone, and stormed out to the living room
where Jace lifted his head, knowingly, from the papers he'd been studying.
"You cut the phone cords?" I exclaimed.
Jace stood abruptly, gathered his papers in one hand and my elbow in the
other. He dragged us all into the bedroom, shut the door, and threw me on the
bed.
"Wha—" But before I could formulate a blistering protest, Jace was on me with
his mouth already exploring.
It only took one gulping breath before everything slammed into me.
We'd nearly died. Munsinger was gone. Jace pinned me on the ground as he shot
above me. Our car had been let loose as we both rolled out from it, only to come
up shooting. Fighting.
And all the word-play, all the hot proclamations, even the banked sarcasm—all
of it was consumed as Jace threw off my shirt and I yanked him back as he was
separated for only a second.
It wasn't lust. It was starvation.
And we both felt it and fought to quench it's denied thirst.
Jace entrapped me against the bed as I shoved against him. We both fought the
other as we sought for our pleasure, but everytime I swept a hand to his hip to
switch our positions, Jace grabbed my hand and twisted it with his as his mouth
explored down my body. He loved every move I made, every technique I used and I
thrived on his own dominance.
It was a power-fuck between us that we secretly had to have.
I gasped, blind to everything else, but him and my needs.
After I'd been thwarted for the third time, I arched my back and attempted to
lift my legs to move him, but Jace took delight as he used the momentary access
to slip my pants and underwear down past my hips.
He held my hips down and moved his searching mouth where I could only shudder
on the bed from the pleasure's captivating torment.
Jace dominated as he had our very first time. He held me captured as I could
only lay despondent to his touch as he slid inside. After the first thrust, then
the second, and until the fury was banked enough inside of me, I gasped and then
I let loose my own terror on him.
As Jace went to thrust again, I shoved at his hips and he dislodged.
And then I twisted out from underneath and straddled him.
Jace reached for my lips when my hips met his again and he slid back
inside.
With one hand on my hip to add his own guiding power, Jace held my lips
captive against his with a hand locked on my neck.
The storm waged inside until the breaking point and I collapsed on his
chest.
Jace skimmed a tender hand down my body to rest on my thigh as he held me
above him, on him.
We both retrieved our breath until the room's coldness slowly creeped onto
us. I don't know how Jace did it, but he kept us in our position and flipped the
blankets out from underneath and over us.
All I cared about was the blessed warmth that enveloped me from underneath
and all around me now.
I slept and Jace was asleep, wrapped behind me, when I woke to the creeping
sunset.
We were still naked and with this moment, oblivious to his observance, I
relished as I studied him in every detail.
Jace was lean, with cut and displayed muscles that were prominent from his
wrists to his calves. High cheekbones, grey eyes, and lips that could've modeled
by themselves, he was captivation, temptation, and dangerous to the eye.
But that wasn't why I was in his bed and that wasn't why I breathed in an air
of gravity that crashed on my windpipes.
Jace was right.
I couldn't offer myself for Munsinger. And Jace was correct, yet again,
because I would've—eventually and with enough time spent 'ruminating' on it.
"We don't know for sure if he's gone." Jace said simply and I was torn back
from my wandering ruminations.
"I know, but I hate thinking of him with Marcus." I got up and threw some
clothes on. After a resigned sigh, Jace reached for his jeans, but that was it.
He left them unbuckled, but pulled the bedsheets over us both.
"Can I ask you something?" I murmured.
Jace smirked. He knew I'd ask anyway.
"It was just formality." I told him.
"What is it?" Jace waited.
"What's going on with you and Taryn? You guys aren't even talking to each
other. Is it me? Is it the situation?"
Jace turned away.
"You can tell me if it's not my business—"
He lifted a finger and dropped from the floor. As he crouched at the corner
of the window, his back muscles tensed to display art, I realized that he
must've had feline DNA for the way he moved.
And then I realized what was going on and I caught the flash of light that
was gone just as quick as it showed.
Jace cursed and commanded, evenly, "Pack the bags. Get your vests and the
guns on." He pulled out my cellphone and dialed a sequence of numbers.
My eyes went flat as I realized he'd taken my phone, but I only asked,
"What'd you do?"
"I called in for reinforcements." Jace replied as he turned, caught my gaze
for a brief second, and moved to dress.
That was all the warning we got.
The first onslaught of gunfire let loose, glass shattered in another room in
the house, and Jace yanked me away from our window just before it shattered.
Jace was off and shooting back before I blinked, but I did and then I cursed
and reached for my own weapons.
I left the room, ignored Jace's choked curse to get back in the room, and
positioned myself at the rear of the house.
I waited, stared, and my eyes grew accustomed to the night sky.
I saw them separate from the snowbank and move towards us. They moved as a
fluid line, molding to the landscape, and each one knew who would lead first and
who would be last.
They were organized and professional.
If they were Marcus', then they were mercenaries.
Until my recent activities, I'd never been involved in a shakedown of this
magnitude. But that didn't mean I was helpless.
A shakedown was a shakedown.
It was an organized mass of events, usually involving violence, that were
initiated with the express purpose of a sum product.
Sometimes that sum produce was money. Other times, sex. Kidnapping. And in
this situation, probably death, mayhem, and all of the above.
If a person wanted to survive where I came from, a person had to learn how to
recognize shakedowns before they started. It was a feel in the air. It was
always abrupt and it was always unsettling. Most felt it, but pushed away the
awkward startling revelation in their mind. Shakedowns didn't make sense to
them, but in my world they did.
I learned to recognize that awkward feeling and call it what it was.
A precursor to my survival.
After recognizing a shakedown was going to happen, exits and evades were
quickly assessed.
Since they'd already opened fire, I knew any evasions wouldn't occur until
the last second, when they were upon us.
And so that meant, we fight.