Kaci

 

“I told you,” Micah said to me, his voice more even and measured than it had any right to be, “we can't take her to a goddamned emergency room for a gunshot. Not unless you want the cops sniffing around. We've got a doc, she'll be fine. Shit happens.”

 

We were in his private office, now, back at Club Hades. They'd gotten us back in the pickup truck, along with the guns, and pulled us up here. Now, he sat there with his antique desk between us, just cool as a fucking cucumber, and I couldn't stand it.

 

This motherfucker almost got us killed with his high-handed, over the top bullshit with robbing rigs and trying to rip off the Russian mob. “Probably some goddamned washed up vet assistant!” I screamed back, ignoring how calm he was.

 

I was furious. Not just at Sydney getting shot, or me getting hit in the head, or at Micah even for killing those men. Definitely not the last part. No, I was livid because my chance at getting close to Efraim was gone, perhaps forever. There was no way in hell I'd be able to get into one of those trucks again.

 

“Well,” he said, his hands spread in front of him, fingers splayed, “he's helped us out more than once, and he knows the deal. He knows what's up and can actually be trusted.”

 

He was probably here already, closing up the hole in Sydney’s shoulder. It had gone clean through, in one side and out the other. Once they'd gotten her out of the cab and examined the actual damage done, Gov had figured it was an easy fix. She'd be hurting for a while, but as long as she got sewn up and they put some fresh blood in her, she'd be fine.

 

It didn't matter if Sydney was going to recover, though. What mattered was that we'd been in a position where we could have gotten shot in the first place. “You didn't tell us there might be guns involved,” I screamed at Micah, my blood pressure high. But I was into it, on a roll, and was being brash. And, as long as he was letting me scream at him, I just kept doing it. “She could have died in there! I could have died!”

 

“If you'd followed the plan,” he said, his voice cold as ice, “we wouldn't be in this position. You jumped the gun, didn't you? If you'd waited to make your move, waited till you got on the road like we'd planned, you would have seen there were two men in the truck, not just one. You could have bailed before one of you got shot and the other got pistol-whipped. Why?”

 

“Why what?” I yelled back, my voice pressing against the boundaries of the office. I didn't care how loud I was getting, though. I just needed to do it, to scream out my rage and frustration.

 

“Why'd you fuck up the plan?”

 

“You know why!” I screamed. I was so pissed I didn't even think things through. I just opened my mouth and the words came spewing out, like when you accidentally turn the faucet on too high and the water just goes everywhere. “Efraim! I wanted to get close to him.”

 

His eyes went wide, his nostrils flared. He bared his teeth, but not in a pleasant, grinning way. “You,” he started, the anger seething into his voice, “what?”

 

Oh no.

 

He stood up from his chair and started to come around the desk. His eyes were lit like bonfires, his jaw locked, the muscles working away as the vein on his forehead began to stand out.

 

Shit.

 

I reflexively took a step back, shaking my head. “I'm sorry,” I stammered, the words broken before I could even speak them.

 

Double shit.

 

# # #

Micah

 

“You,” I said, as I took another step closer, my hands clenching and unclenching at my side, “don't get to decide what to do anymore. You lost that option when you killed Abram and begged for my protection. You're mine now, Kaci.” I kept my voice even and low, despite my rage.

 

Of all the people who would ever defy me, I never would have imagined it to be this little wisp of a woman that I could curl with one arm. Never in a million years would I think that this little lady would come into my club and disregard my explicit orders. Sure, I could have imagined it from one of the prospects. But her?

 

My eyes traveled up and down her body, her teenybopper clothes she had on that seemed so damned out of place with the intensity of her determination and will for vengeance. There was something about her that just drove me up the fucking wall, but also got me in all the right places. Maybe it was the ballsy-ness of it, of the idea that she could somehow dupe her way up the food chain to see Efraim. Maybe it was how she'd ignored everything I'd already told her, even though she claimed to be mine.

 

She took one look at my face and took another step back.

 

I reached out and, fast as a snake, snatched her wrist up and pulled her into my arms.

 

She yelped in surprise as I grabbed her ass and pulled her closer to look down into her eyes.

 

“You're my girl now,” I reminded her, my voice still cold and ragged at the edges. “You gave yourself to me, remember?” I pulled her closer.

 

“I know that,” she almost whispered, turning her face away. I could tell that, as pissed as she was at me, and herself I think, for the way things went down at the truck stop, my words cut even closer to the core. “I know that,” she repeated, her eyes still downcast away from mine.

 

“Then act like it,” I said, pulling her into me. I spun her a little to our left and pushed her back onto the desk, lifted her ass up onto the edge.

 

She spread her legs for me almost eagerly, pulling me in closer.

 

My hips spread her thighs farther apart as I kept her against me with one hand. I touched her cheek with the back of my fingers. Her lips had the barest of parts, and I could tell she was breathing faster. I needed to taste those lips, to see if she felt the same about me, to see if she wanted this as badly as I did.

 

I couldn't stand this whole “ownership” bullshit. If I was going to fuck her, I needed her to want it, to crave it. She had to really give herself to me, but not as a form of payment of some sort. That much hadn't changed at all. I hadn't ever needed to pay a woman to hop in my bed, and I didn't plan on changing now.

 

Her eyes danced as they peered into mine. There was a mixture of fear in them, of uncertainty.

 

I wasn't sure what she wanted, but there was only way to tell. I leaned down, pressed my lips to her.

 

She tasted like sweetish lip gloss, peach maybe, throwing me off for a moment. She didn't kiss back at first, didn't respond at all.

 

Finally, I opened my mouth and ran the tip of my tongue over her lips, encouraging hers to open.

 

She opened her mouth, invited me in. We explored each other, with her acting unsure of herself at first, testing the waters. Soon, though, we were making out on the edge of my desk. I could feel her warm, petite body in my arms, feel it trembling like a frightened bird.

 

This Kaci was so completely unlike the one I'd first met. She was timid, unsure of herself. Soon, though, she seemed to relax into it, seemed to enjoy it a little more, like she was easing back into an old habit of hers.

 

I ran my hand over a small, perky breast. I honestly hadn't noticed before now, but she hadn't worn a bra for the heist. Probably to create the illusion of a slutty teenage runaway, the better to get in the cab of the truck. I passed my thumb over a pert nipple, teasing it through her tank top.

 

She groaned and arched her back into my hand, pushing herself into my palm. She bit my lower lip, groaning again as her tongue dove into my mouth.

 

We ground against each other, our hands wandering over one another's body. I may have seen her naked before tonight, but I'd only allowed myself to real feel her ass, to feel her sex. The rest of her was still so new, so exciting.

 

Just as things were getting good, though, and we were on the verge of doing something more than a little heavy petting, she pulled her lips away from mine. “So,” she asked, looking up into my eyes as she paused and bit her lower lip, “you ready to fuck me like you own me, Don?”

 

Then, I realized what had happened. She'd been timid at first when I'd made my move, but then she'd slipped into her old “stage persona.” I'd seen it happen out there at the truck stop. She could do it in the blink of an eye, giving a guy exactly what she thought they wanted. I grumbled and pulled back a little. But, one problem, that hadn't been what I wanted to hear. If anything, it was the exact opposite.

 

“What?” she asked, a confused look passing over her face.

 

I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said. “Let's just go home. I don't want you this way. I'm sorry, Kaci.”

 

Her eyes went wide like I'd slapped her across the face. She opened her mouth and went to say something, but instead looked away, averting her gaze down to the floor. “Fine,” she said and pressed her lips together till they made a thin line from the cute cupid's bow that was so kissably soft. “I get it.”

 

I went around and grabbed my vest and coat. “Meet me downstairs.”

 

I left her in my office, her face still downcast, her eyes still avoiding me. I stopped by the room we'd put Sydney in with the Doc, checked up on her to make sure she was sleeping fine, then grabbed the keys to one of the spare cars from the rec room and headed down to the back parking lot.

 

I would have loved to ride my bike home, but the little riderless trip I'd sent it on into the side of the road hadn't exactly been healthy for it. Now I was stuck with four wheels instead of two, at least until I got home.

 

Kaci met me down at the back door of the club. Things were in full swing in the front of the house, with the sound of beer bottles and shot glass hitting the bar, and the music pulsing and blaring.

 

Without a word, I pushed the crossbar on the back exit and headed out to one of the spare cars we kept on hand. Kaci trailed behind me, her feet practically dragging with each step.

 

I beep-booped the car and unlocked it, then climbed in on the driver side. She got in on the passenger side, still quiet, and I started the car up. I pulled out of the lot and headed home. Silence hung in the air like a bad stench you couldn't get out no matter how much you cleaned, thick and clingy that seemed to invade every part of your body.

 

“Look,” she said finally as we drew closer to home, “I'm sorry. I know I'm damaged goods, and a man like you doesn't want a girl like that.”

 

My heart sunk.

 

It wasn't like that at all.