Save Me If You Can (10 page)

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Authors: Christina C Jones

BOOK: Save Me If You Can
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“I’m sorry for the confusion,” he murmured in her ear as he pulled her into his arms. “I didn’t even consider that you might think… it was something bad.
Why
would you think it was something bad?”

Naomi shrugged, burrowing her face against his wet skin. “Because I’m an emotional wreck. With everything else that’s been going on, I… I don’t know. Automatically assumed the worst case scenario. But that’s really not fair to you, I guess.”

“Nah,” Marcus chuckled. “Not really. But I get it. We’re honestly still getting to know each other, when you think about it. I mean… I love you, without a doubt. But it hasn’t even been a year ago that we first met.”

She sucked her teeth. “Longest year of my life. With enough drama for a lifetime.”

“But,” he said, reaching to tip her face up towards his. “Not…
all
bad… right?”

Naomi met his gaze, then pushed her hands up and over his chest to drape over his shoulders. “Nope. Definitely not
all
.”

She closed her eyes again as he lowered his lips to hers, moaning when his hands moved to her breasts.

“Marcus,” she breathed, grabbing his wrists. “Don’t tease me. Please.”

He grinned. “I’m not. Like you said… our hands and mouths work, right?”

Naomi didn’t get an opportunity to respond before he took her mouth again, plunging his tongue between her lips. She whimpered as his fingers closed around her breasts again, squeezing and tugging at her nipples, giving them the attention she’d been craving for weeks.

He kissed her like he’d been starving for her, sucking and biting her lips, playing and wrestling with her tongue. The kiss was rough, and messy, and passionate and perfect. While his capture of her mouth was anything but, his hands were gentle as they moved between her legs. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze as his fingers moved over her wet skin, dipping inside of her for lubrication before bringing them out to massage her clit.

“Is this what you needed?” he asked, moving his mouth to her ear to suck and bite her there too.

No,
she thought. What she needed was the hard erection that was currently pressed between them as he stroked her with his hand, but for now, this was a good substitute.

She whimpered out a
yes
as she rocked against his fingers, gripping his wet shoulders to give herself some leverage. He pushed his tongue into her mouth again, moving it with the rhythm set by his fingers. Her body clenched around his fingers as tightness built in her core, urging him deeper, to stroke her faster, harder.

He turned them to the side, allowing the hot spray to hit them both as he pressed his thumb to her clit. Naomi reached between them, gripping him in one hand, using firm pressure as she began to stroke him up and down.


Fuck
, Naomi,” he growled in her ear, then took her mouth for another kiss. The pressure between her legs was so tight she might explode, but it would be a good,
good
way to go. It turned into a race, harder, slower, deeper, faster, to see who could make the other come first.

Marcus won.

The orgasm hit Naomi with force, washing over her in wave after wave of bliss. Ears ringing and staticky, eyes clamped shut, toe-curling bliss. It wasn’t until she felt warmth dripping down her hands, even though the shower water had gone cold, that she realized Marcus had come too.

“Now,” he growled, flipping off the water. “I need to take you home, so we can put our mouths to use.”

Eight.

He’d married wrong.

Several times a month, he realized this with a heavy sigh, but Paula
did
have her uses. Paramount among those – and honestly the only one that mattered enough to keep her around – was the fact that because he’d endured her for
so long
, twenty-five years at this point, she made him look like a family man.

His kids certainly didn’t “need” her anymore, at least not in the regular sense. They were grown now. They could go to
her
house if they wanted to talk to her. And she was still an attractive woman, but the hoops she thought he would jump through to get some ass out of her…
please
.

But – and he rarely admitted this out loud anymore unless it was for show, or as a weapon – he
did
love her, despite the fact she regularly ran his nerves into the ground. Like now.

“—all these goddamned people around all of a sudden. A fucking
prisoner
, Terry? I should call the FBI right now. Who the hell do you think you are, a damn mobster? You said this shit would be over soon. I have been embarrassed, can’t even show my face at the lunch club, or hell – the grocery store!”

Terry’s face pulled into a scowl. “Your ass doesn’t go to the grocery store.”

“That isn’t the
point
,” Paula snapped back, narrowing her eyes as she propped her hands on her hips. She was a tiny woman, barely 5’4”, barely scraping 130lbs, but with her caramel skin reddened in anger, and her auburn hair flying around her face every time she moved or spoke, she looked just like the fireball she was. “The
point
is that you’ve put my life in chaos. I should be at the tennis court right now, and instead we’re in this… this… derelict –” Terry glanced at the immaculate luxury furnishings in the fifteen million dollar home, then back at his wife – “Piece of shit house. With your
whore
.”

Ha.

Now
they’d reached the actual point.

Paula hadn’t wasted any time expressing her… disapproval of Noelle. The mahogany-skinned beauty had been pegged as a problem for Paula from the start, which was why he didn’t keep her locked up with her husband. Like his own wife, Noelle had her uses too.

She’d
begged,
before they left Wolfe’s house in a pile of ashes, that she needed her “prescriptions”. That turned out to be a stash of Valium and Xanax, which were absolutely
not
prescribed by a doctor, but absolutely
did
describe the perpetual haze Noelle seemed to always be in. It was so,
so
easy to control her, when he controlled her “medicine”, rationing it to her only when she’d been a good girl. And she was…
whew
… a performer, in the bedroom, so Terry determined her “good” more often than not.

But as “good” as she was, she was unstable. She’d nearly ruined what he had planned with Wolfe when she snatched that gun and shot at him, but Terry had definitely enjoyed seeing his longtime enemy shaken. That wasn’t staged. He’d had his doubts about Noelle’s fierce words that she hated Damien, her claims that she was there against her will, but they’d flown out the window when she aimed that firearm with a perfect grip, like she’d been waiting on the opportunity, and tried to take a shot.

It was an anger he could use.

Noelle had confirmed everything. That Naomi was actually
his
daughter instead of Nelson’s, that Wolfe held her at a distance so his enemies wouldn’t make a connection and use her against him. That he’d often supplemented her career as a thief with his own protection, because she was his oldest child. About the gym she shared with the Cajun.

He questioned the involvement with the FBI agent though. Noelle had smiled telling him about that, so excited because Naomi was pregnant now. She swore that their meeting was innocent, something about his niece being in Naomi’s ballet class, but still… Terry was leery. The kind of power and force it had to have taken for none of his men to come back from that house – which his IT team had easily found because of one of the girls’ cell phones – was more than a “normal” ballet teacher would have. The girl had friends in either very high – or very low – places.

But that wasn’t relevant anymore anyway. Knowing that she was pregnant, knowing what she meant to Wolfe, it would seem that she was worth more unharmed and alive.

At least for now.

“—even listening to me?!”

Terry groaned as Paula’s hand connected with his shoulder, shoving him to get his attention. In a flash, he’d snatched her by the wrists and dragged her a few steps, roughly pinning her to the wall. “
Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
” He growled, and had to suppress a smile over the obvious fear in Paula’s eyes. “I have listened to you go on and on about this shit for over a month, and I’m sick of it.”

“Well, aren’t you a great role model?” Paula hissed back, contradicting her fright. “How would your precious son look at you now, seeing how you treat his mother? Is this the example you want to set?”

“I will kill your ass, Paula.” He let those words fall from his lips with an eerie calm as he moved her wrists, pinning them against her throat as he applied pressure. “Don’t you question what I do for my son.”

“What
do
you do for your son, other than throw women and money at him and try to make him follow in your pathetic footsteps?” she choked out, just before Terry’s hand connected with the side of her face.

Paula yelped, and slumped to the floor, just as the distinctive tap of high heels on the hardwood floors met Terry’s ears. They grew louder and louder, until Noelle appeared at the door to the dining room, in nothing but a sheer purple robe tied loosely around her magnificently nude body.

“Damn. You’re going to need some ice for that,” she said plainly, glancing at Paula with mild interest before she stepped over her to enter the room and take a seat at the table.

Terry groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face as Paula launched herself up from the floor, lunging at Noelle. He grabbed his wife around the waist, holding her back as she clawed and scratched to get away from him, and at “that bitch” until one of security team took over, carrying her into the next room.

Noelle had watched the entire thing with a bland expression, offering Terry nothing but a shrug when he met her eyes.

“Why would you antagonize her like that, when she was already down?” he asked, shaking his head as he approached where she was sitting. The maid had already placed breakfast in front of her, and she took a swallow from her orange juice before she answered.

“She’s a bitch.” Noelle shrugged again, her eyelids hanging low, then sank her spoon into the bowl of shrimp and grits in front of her. “You know you can hear her, all over the house, screaming at you. I didn’t like it. She doesn’t show you nearly enough respect.”

Again, Terry had to suppress a smile. He’d definitely,
definitely
married wrong. Probably should have taken Noelle from Nelson and Damien all those years ago. She looked now exactly as she had back then, with a submissive personality at that. How much easier his life could have been with a wife like
this
, instead of –

“See?” Noelle said, pointing toward the next room. “Screaming about something else now. She doesn’t learn.”

“And you do?”

Noelle smiled, then leaned toward him, fully exposing her dark-tipped breasts. “Of course. Haven’t I shown you that?”

“You certainly have.” Terry smirked as he reached into his pocket, pulling out two tiny pills, and Noelle’s eyes lit up as he put them in her eager hand. She immediately swallowed them with a drink from her orange juice, sitting back with a dreamy smile.

From the other room, Paula was indeed still screaming, but she switched from her ramblings about the “slut bitch” and moved back to Damien. “ – after I tell the FBI and whoever else exactly where all that money is, I’m gonna tell these kids exactly what kind of monster you are. We’ll see how much your son loves you then!”

I’m going to kill her stupid ass.

Terry groaned. His head was absorbed with his son, who Paula knew was special to him after overcoming a heart defect at birth to grow into a handsome, dynamic young man who he’d hoped to pass his legacy onto. He hadn’t spoken to TJ in over a week, which wasn’t exactly abnormal, but the boy had been acting so… distant, ever since this scandal. And the fact that Paula kept bringing him up… although he reverenced his son, the boy was closer to his mother… what the fuck did she know that she wasn’t saying?

He said nothing else to Noelle as he turned to stomp out of the room, needing to deal with Paula. If he’d been paying better attention though… he would have noticed that after she’d raised her orange juice to take another drink, she left two tiny pills behind in the glass.

 

&

Proper execution of revenge required decisive action. No uncertainty, no moral qualms, but a devastating blow, right where it hurt. Hard enough and harmful enough that it caused the victim the same amount of pain they’d caused you.

It hadn’t taken much for Kendall to determine that if he were going to take that route, he would go after Terry King’s son – Terry Jr., or TJ. King told anyone who listen that he was expecting his son to be great. Couldn’t wait to see him become a man, with a business and a fortune and a family of his own. Well… neither could Kendall, but unfortunately, Terry King had taken away that chance.

A single bullet.

That would be all that was necessary for King to understand the pain of losing a child you saw a future for. A single bullet through TJ’s head, while they ate in some fancy restaurant. While King smiled across the table at his son, seeing himself reflected in his eyes. His own seed’s blood and brain matter, splattered across his face, decorating the food.

But Kendall wasn’t into killing innocent people.

He
did
have a moral compass, and thoughts of what Anita would think about his actions if he did such a thing kept him in line. He comforted himself instead with thoughts of killing Terry King, even though death was, quite honestly, a punishment way too kind.

That wasn’t the goal today either though.

They had to find the man first, and if there was any sort of weakness in Terry King, any potential flaw in his security, Kendall was going to find it, through his son.

He tossed his gym bag over his shoulder, strolling purposefully over to where the young man was, taking out his frustration over his loss in the weight area.

“Hey youngin, go easy over there with the bicep curls and stuff,” he said, stopping at the edge of the mat. “Your time would be better spent on med ball throwing, and planks, leg raises.”

TJ glanced at Kendall, then shook his head. “I need to get stronger.”

“That’s true,” Kendall agreed. “
Core
strength though, bruh. You’ve got your technique and stuff down, but if you don’t build up your core, you’re gonna keep getting your ass whooped. Like today.” Kendall grinned, but TJ shook his head, racking his weights as he walked away.

They’d watched all of Terry King’s children carefully over the last month, because the kids were the only ones who weren’t in the wind. At 19, TJ was the youngest, and most vulnerable, because he didn’t have the same security around him as the girls did. Arrogant, brave, or just plain stupid, they didn’t know. But they
did
know that TJ, with his interest in MMA, and three times a week trips to a Mixed Martial Arts gym, was their way in.

“Alright kid, wait up,” Kendall said, following TJ across the floor. He took him by the shoulders, looking him in the face. “Look… what are you here for?”

TJ raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. “What do you mean?”

“I’m saying… why MMA? You want to be stronger, you’re trying to get ass, you’re working out anger… what is it?”

The young man shrugged, then averted his eyes, almost like he was embarrassed. “I’m just… my family is fucking crazy, man. When I come here, it’s like… I don’t have to think about what’s going on with them.”

Kendall nodded. “And you can hit shit.”

TJ dropped his head, grinning. “Yeah, I can hit shit.”

“Okay.” Kendall nodded again, patting TJ on the shoulder. “So you’re looking for escape. Working out aggression.” The same reasons had brought Kendall into the world of MMA, even though he’d learned most of his fighting skills through government training. Before Anita passed, he’d rarely dealt with issues of pent-up aggression. He was laid back… honestly just an easygoing guy. He still was, really, but now… a current of anger was ever-present in his mind, and probably would be, as long as Terry King walked the earth.

“I guess you could say it like that,” TJ agreed.

“Alright man, well… come on. If the point is to work out aggression, you can’t be out here letting people kick your ass. You have a trainer?”

TJ shook his head. “Nah, man. Trying to be… incognito I guess. I’m still in college, so my parents still pay for everything. I start paying a trainer, they’ll ask questions, my mother will freak out if she finds out what I’m doing… all of that. I’ve been just researching stuff online, and asking questions… are you a trainer?”

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