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Love and War: Part One – Chapter 10

DELTA

I accidentally roll onto my newly tattooed arm, the sting waking me up. To relieve it, I turn on my side, allowing it to drape over my body, before searching for the old, ratty, one-eyed stuffed puppy I never sleep without.

When my hand finds it not far away from me, I snuggle it against my body. At least he keeps it cold in his house—the only way to sleep. “Aren’t you a little old for stuffed animals?”

I jump at the sound of his voice, my eyes popping open. “Fuck, Kross. That’s creepy as hell,” I say, groggy, trying to focus on the dark figure standing against the doorframe. I really should buy a gun, a knife, something to protect myself.

I’ve never been a fan of weapons—didn’t think I’d ever be in a place in my life that I’d need one—but maybe Lux was right. You never know what kind of darkness is stalking you in ways you can’t see. This one I may want stalking me, though. Just a thought.

He walks inside, not stopping until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed beside me. I scoot back a little to give him room. “What time is it?”

“2AM.”

Things finally start to register in my half-sedated mind. “Why the fuck are you awake?” I tug on his thin, black, long sleeve shirt at his back. “And dressed? Long sleeve at that. It’s October and we live in the south.”

“I told you I work at night.”

“The last appointment at the shop was 8 o’clock. In case you forgot, you were shading in the rose on my arm when they left.”

“How serious were you this morning about wanting to stay?”

Let’s not tackle B. No, Kross Brannon jumps from A to C. “Serious enough to fucking live with you. I’m a loner. I don’t ‘live’ with people. Not even Lux. And enough to sacrifice my much-wanted sleep, apparently. Why? This is not important conversation at 2AM. Are you going to make me regret this? I haven’t attempted to live with someone since Lux and I first moved here. I like my own space. That didn’t work out too well. We’re totally different in that sense.”

“Stop talking. Get up and get dressed.”

“Damn. You’re a pessimistic asshole. For what?”

“There’s somewhere I have to be.”

“I’m not stopping you. Just pretend I’m not here between the hours of midnight and 6AM since you eliminated the only reason I had to be awake at those times before and expect me to wake up at the butt crack of dawn. I thought one of the perks of having a cool-ass job was to have less structured hours.”

He stands to leave and I pull the comforter up to my neck, my eyes already closing. The second they start rolling back in my head he jerks the covers off the bed completely, the air kissing my skin and leaving chill bumps. “Fuck! What?”

“I tried to play nice.”

“If you wake me up, expect the bitch to come out and play. She’s not pretty either.”

He straddles me and turns his hat around. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dealt with a bitch. This one I know how to make disappear.”

He rips my panties at the thin string on my hip and peels the front down, not worrying with the other side. Before I can fully wake up my thighs are on my stomach, my knees at my breasts, and his lips touch down on my . . . “Shit.”

His warm tongue slides between my lips, stopping on my clit. He alters flicking and sucking, both quick changes, and staying at the exact spot I need without moving. My hand goes for his head, recoiling when it grips around his hat instead of hair, going for my own breasts as the loud moans exit my mouth. “You’re really good at . . . that. Fuck.”

He bites me and I’m fucking done. The second his tongue rubs over it in short quick strokes the orgasm comes, fast and hard. As I start to come down, he shoves his tongue inside of me, making it last a little longer, and then rolls it so I can feel it, before slowly pulling out. “God bless America.”

“Leave our country out of this. Get up and get dressed.”

He gets off the bed; every damn fine inch of him. I groan when he starts to walk away. “I hate you.”

“Good. Meet me downstairs in five minutes. Wear black and quiet shoes. Your coffee will be waiting.”

He starts to open the door. “I’m only going because of your choice of wake-up call.”

He shuts the door without acknowledging me. “Add milk to my death coffee!”

“Five minutes,” he yells back.

I shamefully drag my post orgasmic body out of the bed and walk to my dresser that was just filled at lunch with all of my fold-up clothes. The panties fell to the floor as I stood. I failed miserably, disappointing independent women everywhere. We are supposed to have all the control over sex. That’s the way nature intended.

He didn’t even act like he wanted sex. He just waltzed in here, ate my pussy like a fucking champion, and then walked out without me even knowing whether he had a hard-on as a result. Furthermore, he hasn’t initiated sex again since the club when he just fucking took it without asking. I’m not complaining. I want it again. I’m pathetic. I’ve gone two years without sex just fine and suddenly he gives me a damn quickie and I’m like an addict. Makes no damn sense.

My head falls back as I remove a pair of black yoga pants from the drawer, slowly pulling them on without bothering with panties. Work tomorrow is going to suck. Why the hell did I agree to this? Oh, because the damn sexy tattoo God gave me a little attention and now I’m like a puppy waiting for table scraps. Doomed. I’m fucking doomed.

Kross

I look back through my side mirror as the black suburban pulls in behind me. I glance over at the passenger seat, the taste of her still lingering on my tongue. Her smell clings to my scent palate in a way nothing ever has. Her head is leaning against the window and her feet are folded in the seat.

Don’t ask me why I fucking brought her. I don’t just bring people into my business. The more people that know increases my chances of getting caught. I don’t get caught. Ever. Too much is at stake if I do. I’ll kill before I will. Done it before.

The only way to keep respect is to have people fear you. To instill fear in someone is to fear nothing and prove you aren’t a pushover. Sometimes you have to make an example out of someone to do so. And I haven’t feared anything in a long time.

I just hope she can keep her mouth shut. It’d be unfortunate to execute someone with such God-given talent. Someone that makes my mouth water simply by existing. The only way to truly know is to test her.

She looks at me when I kill the truck. I grip the back of her neck, having told her basically nothing this entire drive. To ensure she pays attention, I force her head to look up at me. “Don’t say a fucking word. Don’t stare at them, stay by me, and the second this is done never speak of it again, not even to Lux. Do I make myself clear?”

“Okay.”

“Let’s go.”

I open my door and get out, waiting for her to round the front. They stay in the suburban, watching me as I walk toward the storage unit they pulled next to. I glance around before stopping at the appropriate one. After this deal, I’ll cancel this unit and move on to another. I never keep anything long-term. Habitual behavior is what gets people locked up. I don’t do well in a cage. The demons then come out to play.

They open the doors to the SUV when I shove the key in the lock, pulling it off and lifting the door. “Get inside.” She does as I say and I wait for the two men to enter before me, then I file in behind them, shutting the door and turning on the overhead light.

“They all here?” the one running this operation asks.

“Yes. I got the full order.”

“Who’s this?” He nods at Delta in the back corner, his hand on his piece under his shirt that’s strapped to his waist. “You didn’t mention someone else.”

“She’s with me. You don’t have to worry about her.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“If she runs her mouth I’ll kill her myself.”

“Let me see her dirty.”

I stare at him, his hand still on his gun. He doesn’t scare me, but if he gets pissed off she’ll be the one he aims for. He knows he can’t take me down. “Delta, come here.”

She walks toward me and I hold out my hand. The one staying quiet places a small, clear bag in it. “It’s already ready to go.”

She’s looking at me, questioning me without even opening her mouth. I reach into my pocket, pulling out the cheap BIC pen and then disassemble it, keeping only the hollow cylinder. She takes it as soon as I hand it to her, waiting for instruction. I pour two lines, snorting the first one, because there is no way they are leaving without the full bag being gone and I’m not letting her do that much blow. They are the runners for one of my biggest buyers. You don’t move that much inventory without being serious about using it if necessary to cover your ass.

I wipe the residue off my nose and pull her to the box in front of me. “Snort it.”

I can feel her shaking as she looks at it, but without hesitating, she places one side of the narrow pen casing to the end of the line, the other at her nostril, and does it, inhaling it all and leaving nothing behind. Her hand immediately starts wiping at her nose and she keeps sniffing. “You ready to do this?”

“Let me see her chest, bruh. I don’t play.”

He’s pissing me off. I turn us, keeping her back at my front, before gripping the bottom hem of her shirt and lifting it to her neck to show him she’s not wearing a wire, then slowly turn her for him to see the back. “Now quit harassing my girl and let’s do this before I cancel the order. I’m sure he’s made you well aware not to fuck with me. No one else can fill that kind of quota on short notice. I’ll tell Hector myself his two goons couldn’t do the job and he can come see me if he has a problem with it. Do you want the shipment or not?”

He walks forward, the gold cap on his tooth showing through the smirk he has on his face. He’s looking at her in a way that makes me want to rip every tooth from his head one at a time.

He grabs her chin in his hand. She tries to turn away, but he’s gripping her too tight. His tongue runs along his teeth as he looks at her. I swear to God if he touches her with it I’ll cut it off. “We good, man. Just gotta protect boss-man. You sure do know how to pick ‘em. I bet this one is fun to look at while she rides.”

My eyes close, my jaw working overtime, the cocaine filtering through every vessel. I open them, ready to shred something from the anger quickly building. “You have a second to remove your fucking hand from her or I will kill you with the very gun strapped to your body. If you think I’m incapable keep up your shit. I’ve been doing this a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

He drops it. “Open the boxes and we’ll pay and be on our way.”

I open the one in front of us and grab the 9mm sitting on top, tossing it to him. He inspects it and places it back in, waiting on me to open all of them so he can see inside. After the final one, he grabs the small duffel from his partner and tosses it to me. “It’s all there.”

“I’ll check.”

He sucks his gold tooth. “Load them, Dwayne.”

His partner lifts the unit door and walks toward the truck, taking one box with him. “Delta, get in the truck.”

She doesn’t even let the last word exit my mouth before taking off in a sprint toward it. Before he can wrap his eighth grade educated mind around what I’m about to do, I close the door and move behind him, grabbing his black hair in my fist, the point of my knife already pressed into the rosary beads between the praying hands over his jugular. His hand goes to his gun. “Try it, motherfucker. I’m much faster than you.”

I smell along his neck—fear—watching the blue line become more visible as the blood pumps harder and faster through his vein. I press the tip into the skin, along the edge of his vein and pull downward, purposefully missing it, but hard enough to watch the blood seep through as his skin parts from the cut. “I may be his dealer, but I don’t work for anyone, especially not someone like you who’s easily disposable. Who do you think Hector will get rid of if you fuck up his vendors, huh? Me or you?” He grits his teeth, bucking against me, earning him another slice. “If you ever fuck with something that belongs to me again, specifically that someone, you won’t walk away alive. One centimeter over and I can watch the blood drain from your body one beat at a time. I’m not a man of second chances. Next time I’ll bury you where no one will find you. Get your shit and lock up. I’ll be watching.”

I release him and disarm him as I shove him forward, before walking to the door, lifting it once again. Delta has her fingertips in her mouth, staring out the truck window at me when my eyes land on her. “Tell your boss to expect my call.”

And I will, because if he sends that stupid-ass motherfucker back his head will return in a box just like the inventory he was sent after.


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