Double Dealing: A Menage Romance (7 page)

He lowered his lips to mine and we kissed, first with soft tenderness and then increasing hunger. He was the same height as Francois, but larger, broader across the chest and back while still feeling fit and lean. I wanted to see him, his body, and feel it pressed against me, but before I could even reach for his zipper, a growl behind us sent ice water through my veins.

The mountain lion was big, its lips peeled back and long, yellowed fangs bared. I felt Felix hold me tighter before sliding my body behind him, his hand reaching slowly for the saw hanging from his belt. "Back away slowly," he said, keeping his eyes on the large cat. “I think we've wandered into its hunting territory. I hope if we look like no threat, it’ll let us leave unmolested."

I tried to follow Felix's commands, my legs stiff and barely lifting high enough to scrape along the snow and leaves. When I stepped on a branch, it snapped, the sound making me scream in fear.

It was enough for the cat to charge, leaping from its crouch towards us. Felix was a sudden blur of motion, his left hand shoving me back while his right hand flashed upwards, swinging his hand saw in a sweeping arc. He pivoted with the swing like a dancer, simultaneously moving out of the way while re-diverting the cat's leap so that it flipped over his back and landed on the ground with a heavy thud.

The mountain lion twisted as soon as it hit the ground, its head whipping around to snap at the saw. It bit down on the teeth of the saw, quickly realizing the metal was sharp and painful before running off into the woods.

The whole thing took less than ten seconds, from the first growl to final run. I leaned against the tree Felix had pushed me against, my chest still aching from my scream, staring as Felix calmly watched the mountain lion's retreat path before looking at his saw. "Damn. Bent the blade."

He showed me the saw, which was bent at a crazy angle from hitting the body of the big cat and then being bitten. Coming over, he took my hands and pulled me close.

I embraced him hard, happy to be alive, my fear renewed a minute later when something came crashing through the woods, only to find relief when Francois came charging up the slope, wielding of all things a butcher knife in his hands. "What’s wrong?"

"Relax brother," Felix said, letting go of me. He pointed in the direction that the cat had run off, his eyes still unconcerned. "There was a mountain lion, but I scared it away. No need to freeze yourself."

I noticed that Francois was wearing just pants, and I had my first look at his upper body. He was just as lean as I'd thought the day before, his skin slightly copper tinged while his muscles were like an anatomy chart. He looked at the two of us, then shook his head in exasperation at the ridiculousness of the scene. "Fine. But please, no more screaming while I'm taking a sponge bath. It’s cold out here. So everything’s okay?”

"I'm fine," I said. "Go, get warm and finish washing. Felix and I will gather wood and come back soon."

His smiling flash of teeth reassured me, and he deftly reversed the grip on his knife to carry it safely before turning and loping down the slope in long, bounding strides. I was going to call after him to be careful, but I could tell he was the type to not listen, nor need the warning.

"He never comes running like that when I call for help," Felix noted with a soft chuckle, then turned back to me. "Come, I think we might need to find another place to look. Maybe somewhere with a slightly less dangerous strain of nearby wildlife."

"Chipmunks would be nice, maybe a blue jay or two," I said, taking his offered hand and walking with him. "But nothing bigger than a raccoon."

E
xcept
for the ruggedness of our hideout, the rest of the week for me was heavenly. Starting that night, and for the rest of our time at the cabin, we slept three to the bed, Felix and I holding Jordan between us. The bed was cramped, but it was far better than being on the wooden floor. We left the door to the room open and unlocked, so it was warmer than it had been that first time, although we did use more wood on a daily basis.

Despite the frustrations, our agent on the outside called us five days after we'd stolen the swords. Felix and Jordan were outside filling our water cans from the hand pump. "Yes?"

"We have a new way to get you out of the country," our deeply-voiced business partner said, his voice crackly over the satellite linkup. While normally using a sat phone gives you nearly crystal clear quality, the weather in the mountains was still poor, and trying to get a signal through the trees was sometimes an iffy proposition. "But it will involve some action on your part."

"What do you mean?" I asked warily. Felix was right, never trust a Spaniard. We have both known too many Spaniards. "We had an agreement."

"That was when you had enough in potential sales to pay for an escorted extraction from the heart of Southern California," our agent replied. "But the people involved weren’t willing to do that for the price I could offer them."

"What's the deal then?" I asked, growling in frustration. "Am I supposed to drive us to Mexico by myself now?"

"No, no, that wouldn't be useful at all," our agent said. The man could not even tell when I was being sarcastic. You can’t do business with a half-French half-Rom if you can’t detect sarcasm, plain and simple. "But you will need to leave the cabin. There is a small ranch airstrip, in between Victorville and Barstow that your new escorts are flying into. There will be a small plane waiting at the airport just after sunset. It will wait for exactly thirty minutes, then take off. If you are not on it . . .”

"I got it, we'll be getting our asses out of California," I said. "What is the address?"

He read me the directions, as well as a set of latitude and longitude, just in case. I copied it all down onto a piece of paper, then tapped the point of my pencil on the pad. "We’ll be expecting our money as soon as we are out of the country," I said, changing subjects. "Will that be a problem?"

"Not at all," he said. "We will have your portion of the money when you get off the plane. Of course, there will be a significantly lower amount since you did not get out with all the previously agreed upon items.”

"Of course. We will meet your pilot tomorrow."

I hung up the phone and went outside to find Felix and Jordan screwing the caps on the last of the water cans. "We have a meet-up," I said. "But it’s not what you wanted."

"Oh, how so?" Felix asked. He lifted the heavy cans, one in each hand while Jordan stuffed her hands back into her pockets. "Inside, if it can wait five seconds."

Inside the cabin, I told Felix about our agent's instructions, his face clouding as the details emerged. He muttered under his breath before sighing. "It’s unavoidable. All right, let's pack up, and make sure that everything is ready to go tomorrow."

I looked at Jordan, who was shifting from side to side. "Jordan, I’m sorry. I know we said that we'd give you the ride when we left, but with this change, that can’t happen. What about if we give you the satellite phone instead? With that and the address, you can easily call the police for help as soon as we are gone."

Jordan shook her head, her eyes blurring with tears. Felix came over and cupped her chin, looking her in the eye. "What is it? We promised you your freedom, and you’ll have it."

She shook her head again, the first tear trickling down her cheek. “It’s not that. I just don't want this to end."

"What?" I asked, joining her and Felix by the small table. Felix's hand dropped and he ran one through his hair, his eyes clouding over with emotion as he understood what Jordan was asking.

"This time with you both," she said softly, looking from Felix to me and back. "I don't want this to end. The time with you both, the feeling I've had. I don't want that to end."

"Come now," I said, brushing one of her tears away. While I felt similar, I always knew this time was approaching. The fantasy would have to end. "You'll be able to have a real bed, a real shower, and warm toilets. That can't be so bad."

Jordan shook her head in negation again. "I'd rather have camp food, a crowded bed, and a frozen ass from the toilet seat."

"Come — enough of that," I said, looking up at Felix, whose face was pinched with thought. He obviously had not set up the same internal defenses I had, and her tears were getting through to him. "The life of a thief is hardly one for a beauty such as you, Jordan Banks."

"You could be helpful, though," Felix said, looking at her, ignoring my thoughts. "After all, we would be much more secure if you came with us, at least to the airport. We could still use a hostage if it is necessary."

"What are you saying, you fool?" I spat to Felix. "Jordan hasn't been our hostage."

"Yes I have," Jordan said, her tears disappearing and her face brightening as she thought about Felix's words, and caught the meaning that I hadn't. "And I think Felix is right. You need me still, and if anything, as a guide. I know the Southern California area better than you boys do. You need me still."

I looked in her eyes, and I knew she was just going along with Felix's lie in order to stay with us longer. Looking at my brother, I also saw in his eyes that he was intentionally lying to himself as well. "We’ll see. Jordan, would you please excuse my brother and me? We need to talk outside."

Felix was about to object, but I took him by the arm. "Please, brother. It’s important."

Felix looked down at my arm, then at me, and nodded. "Fine. Jordan, please excuse us.”

Outside in the chill, I waited until we were far enough from the cabin so that our words would not easily be overheard before turning on my brother. "What the hell was that, Felix?"

"What do you mean, Nicolae?" Felix replied, using my Roma name. I growled and shook my head.

"Dammit Felix, you know I hate when you call me that. I am Francois, not Nicolae. You only use that when you want to start ordering me around."

"I only use it when you are acting like an asshole," Felix countered. "That I have to use it so often is frustrating to me too. What is the problem?"

"You are the problem, Gudada," I hissed, using his Roma name in return. "In case you didn't notice, you just promised our hostage that we would take her with us when there is no reason to. Your explanation and her reason are shit, and you know it."

"I made a decision based off of the situation we are in," Felix replied evenly. "I see no reason why my reasoning is flawed."

"Perhaps because you’re taken by this girl and are too damn blinded by it to recognize that," I returned. "She sheds a few tears, blinks her eyes at you, and you crumple like a piece of tissue paper."

"As opposed to Francois, the ladies man?" Felix replied. "Despite what you tell her, I know the truth, Francois. You've left broken hearts all over the globe in our travels. Or should I start with their names?"

"Enough, Felix," I spat, turning my back. "You're letting your heart get in the way of your brain."

"And you’re lying to yourself as well," Felix returned. "You would not have charged through the woods half naked and waving a butcher knife to just come after me."

I turned back, my hand raised to knock the hell out of Felix, but the look in his eye stopped me. My brother had twenty pounds of muscle on me, and we were both equally trained. There was no way I'd get a blow in. His hands were ready at his side, and his eyes were glinting in that way that I'd come to recognize. His mind was made up. "She is a good woman, Felix. Better than the likes of us."

I turned and went over to the Jeep, opening the door before slamming the door behind me, effectively ending the conversation. Felix looked at me through the window for a minute before going back into the cabin. Through the window I could see him and Jordan talking, then she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him before practically skipping into the back room.

I thought about Felix's words. Was I really in denial? I had to admit, his admonishment that I'd slept my way around the world was more accurate than I'd like. I'd had quite a few lovers in my time. But was that so bad? I lived the life of a thief, not knowing if the next target was my last. Despite what Father had tried to teach us, I had no faith that I would be able to get what he had, a loving family and dying in his bed peacefully.

To add on top of it, I was Rom. Perhaps the only people in Europe more reviled in history than the Jews, we'd been persecuted our entire existence. Even now, seventy years after the Germans had tried to wipe us out, we were still facing the same fight as we were lumped in with refugees from the Middle East wars, rounding us up and blaming us for the problems they'd caused themselves. With that, was there any reason to think there was a purpose to life other than today's enjoyment?

It wasn't that I didn't have feelings for Jordan. She was a beautiful woman and certainly spirited. I shook my head, wiping my hand through my hair and wishing we'd never run into Jordan Banks. But there was part of me that said, once again, I was lying to myself.

Getting out of the Jeep, I closed the door behind me and went back inside. Felix had laid the swords on the table, each of them gleaming in the dim light from the windows and the stove. "What are you doing?" I asked Felix, whose face was impassive, with no traces of our argument in his eyes. "I thought we'd prepared them already."

"We had, but I wanted to double check before we seal them up for transport," he replied. "Jordan wanted to use your guitar, she's in the bedroom."

I nodded, watching as Felix carefully picked up one of the blades. He was wearing silk gloves so as to not leave a single bit of oil from our skin on them. Next to the table were the packing crates, where each blade was going to rest on the trip out of the country. An inch wide plastic case would house each blade inside an oil bath, making the blades both undetectable to normal scanning techniques, but also insulated against temperature as well as protected from harmful exposure to oxygen. What the buyers did with them I didn’t care, but Felix and I both guaranteed that the swords would be unharmed in our possession. It’s a point of personal pride, nothing we steal is ever harmed in our possession.

Leaving him in the main room, I went into the bedroom, where Jordan was checking the tune on my guitar. "You handle it better than I do."

She looked up, smiling sadly. "I guess so. It’s a fine instrument, even if it is a bit different than mine."

Jordan looked down, and started to hold the guitar out to me but I waved it off. "No, please. I'm slightly jealous of Felix, actually. He's heard you play while I haven't yet."

"Then let me get this tuned up, and I'll play some for you two," Jordan said. "But on one condition."

"What's that?" I asked.

"You make dinner. Despite Felix's assurances, you are a far better cook than he is."

I chuckled, then leaned back, laughing. "It's nice to hear someone say I'm better than Felix at something at least."

Jordan stopped her tuning and looked at me quizzically. "What do you mean?"

I shook my head. "Felix has always been the superior one. He’s bigger, more intelligent, the natural leader, everything. About the only areas I seem to surpass him are in getting into trouble, smooth talking young ladies, and now it seems, cooking. It's good to know I have at least one positive trait I’m better than him in."

"Ladies man, huh?"

I blushed at my faux pas, and shrugged. "I've been accused of being one, but I'd like to maybe someday be the man that my father expected me to become."

"Which is?" Jordan asked.

"If I can’t be a King of the Gypsies, I can at least be the Prince of Thieves," I replied. "Not that Felix isn't bad, but he wants out of this end of our lineage. He wants to be like Father was after he met our mothers, an aristocratic gentleman, working to better the lives of our tribe." I laughed. “Me, I'm more like young Father, wanting to cut my teeth and prove myself as the best damn thief this world has ever seen."

"Why?" Jordan asked quietly. "It's not exactly the sort of thing you can put on your resume."

I turned my head and smirked. "You still have much to learn about us, Jordan."

I got up off the bed and went to the door. "I look forward to hearing your playing when you're ready. I will prepare dinner."

J
ordan didn't come
out for another hour, and, in fact, closed the door to the bedroom for most of the time. The door was thin enough that Felix and I could hear the occasional strum or finger pick of notes, but not enough for us to discern what she was playing. "I think she wants to put on a concert for us," I said to Felix, who slid another blade into its traveling case before latching it down. "Perhaps she thinks it’ll sway our decision. She wants to come with us, you know."

"I know," Felix said. "Regardless, I have made my decision. Nothing she does tonight will sway my thinking."

"That sounds more like the man I call my brother," I replied cheerfully. It seemed my concerns earlier had been just phantoms, building on my own feelings as well. "Come, let me put together a feast for all three of us, and then after dinner, maybe Jordan will play for us. Or with us."

"Francois, choose your words carefully," Felix said warningly. "You were right earlier in that I do feel something for her."

“As do I, Felix. Why do you think I'm trying everything in my power to create a mental separation already?" I shot back. "If you haven't noticed, it's a pattern of mine."

"I've noticed," Felix replied, his eyes full of condescension. He may be my brother, but he's also an arrogant ass a lot of the time.

Before I could reply, though, the door to the bedroom opened, and Jordan came out with a tentative smile. "Hi, guys. Uhm, I kind of decided on some songs I could play, if you guys want to sing along that would be great."