BUFF (22 page)

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Authors: Mandy Burns

BOOK: BUFF
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“Where?” he asks, from somewhere behind Luis. "Hope you didn't go to Marcello’s. Told you they make shit pieces. Tastes like a paper plate with ketchup."

“No.” Luis laughs, sure Kulich will think he’s stroking his ego, when he’s really laughing because he is so goddamn nervous. “No, tried this new place. Called Albertos… It, uh, just opened up on Main Side. The guys who own it are actually Italian. Can you believe it?"

“Today? No.” Kulich chuckles a little too loud to be genuine. He feels the burn on his back from Kulich’s stare webbing a trap. “Fucking everyone owns a goddamn pizza place. I gotta it try some time." Luis finally spots Kulich looking out the window.

“Yeah it's good."

“Good."

“Y-Yeah." Luis's voice breaks.

Quietness follows, trailing between them. Kulich is using the deliberate silence to tear at Luis. And it's working.

“So talked to Colt."

“Oh yeah?” Luis answers casually, his shoulder's stiffening.

“Yeah… he's said he'll be back soon enough. He's having a good time riding though.” Kulich pauses, purposefully. “But then again that's Aston for you."

Aston... Why the fuck would Colt mention Aston to
Kulich
?!

Luis hesitates, looks back. His boss is no longer at the window. “He said—"

“What?” Kulich is on the other side of him, lingering near the kitchen entrance.

“Colt's in Aston?" Luis asks.

“Yeah.” His boss leans against the wall in a staged-like pose. “He said it's cold as hell up there. I tell you, I can definitely wait for next Summer."

“Yeah Aston...” Luis gulps, desperately trying to reach for understanding that’s not there. "It's… cold."

Relaxed, Kulich asks in a softer voice, "You've talked to Colt then?"

“Uh, not since the other day."

“You ever been to his house there?” Kulich questions lightly. “Heard it's beautiful."

Luis fights for semblance, for control of a situation he never had power over. “Yeah well, Colt… he likes the space I think mostly it's so peaceful out there."

“Yeah? I'd go crazy with all that fucking silence.” Kulich moves closer, slow swaggering steps that embody the man who orchestrates them.

“Yeah, me too.” Luis agrees, his gut cramping.

Taking a seat next to Luis, Kulich leans back in his chair. “You think Colt will be back in time for that fundraiser? He did say he was coming and I could use the extra security now that the great Abruzzi is part of my crew."

So close... Luis feels like he can’t breathe.

"Yeah with the way Colt rides… give it five maybe six hours… He's a speed demon...” he trails off, seeing a weird look cross Kulich’s face and then eyes him with a challenge Luis isn’t sure how to interpret.

Kulich waves his hand then in the direction of the door. “Fuck off and don't bother me unless Colt calls."

Luis is already marching toward the door when he answers, “Okay."

"Oh and Luis?"

“Yeah?” Luis twists around, his hand never leaving the door knob, his one foot still remaining halfway out the door.

“Colt’s okay?"

“Like you said, Boss, you know Colt. Never really tell with him."

“He did the right thing. I know it's hard for him but in this business—it's the right thing."

Luis eye's remain glued to the marble floor. “Yep, you're right. Colt knows that."

“Good.” Kulich shakes his head, pleased. “Thanks, Luis. You've been a great help."

Luis makes his way outside the penthouse feeling like he’s messed-up, but not sure how. He’s still playing catch-up with the small landmines Kulich had dropped on him.

He’s fucked-up big time.

He just isn’t sure how.

*     *     *

THE DOOR CLICKS SHUT
and Kulich is on the phone before the door has fully closed.

Those fucking assholes are lying! Colt always kills the hardest target first. What happened with his mom fucked him up all kinds of crazy... Always the first!

There are two rings before the man on the other end picks up.

“Change of plans, Roman. Take the chopper," Kulich says, still seething with anger. “You're going to Aston instead.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

THE DARKNESS OF THE NIGHT
is eerie, like she is waking up in a black hole.

The room, the silence, the feel of her bare feet against the cold tile of the small foreign hallway, it surprises her that she hasn’t had a heart attack by now. There is little she can say or do that can comfort her. In fact the very conditions she lives in propels her terror into overtime.

The rest of the house is dark, the Moon casting slight shadows on the gray living-room rug. She finds herself walking to the back of the room staring out through the large overwhelming windows, taking in the beauty of the woodsy ambiance at nightfall. The view is spectacular and seems to calm her split nerves, soothing the ascending panic that tends to come and go on its own accord.

Her attic window was like a mouse-hole compared to this dreamy woodland fairytale. There is a small drift of fog peeking between the trees. The sprinkle of stars in the Sky splayed before her like glittering diamonds. The trees are mere shadows, leafy shapes and trunks, the only visible parts in the darkness.

All that is left to finish off the perfect picture is some enchanted fairy godmother riding on her white magical carriage with the sheer purpose to come and save her. To take her to her family who she misses so much. To take her away from this hell and the tricks her feelings are trying to play on her.

“Need anything, doll?"

She’s surprised she doesn’t jump from the sudden disturbance. “No… No, thank you, Jenson.”

For the last two days, Jenson has been an absolute gentlemen. When she first laid eyes on him she thought him a brainless violent ogre, albeit a fairly handsome one. And when Colt left her alone with this heavily-built man with tattoos as a second skin, she’d been petrified. But he’s been nothing but a sweetheart. He’s even a pretty fantastic cook with a great sense of humor, trying to make her laugh, easing her anxieties. Becky’s only known him for a short while, but she’s already warmed up to him.

“Well,” Jenson shrugs, "I'll be in Colt's room if you do."

“Oh... Colt won’t be back tonight?"

“Uh, not sure, doll.”

She shouldn’t care if Colt never returns, but she does. “Oh..."

“Don't worry.” Jenson catches her eye, smiling gently at her as if he’s waiting for her to fall to pieces in front of him. “He'll be back soon. Don’t you worry now.”

She shakes him off, her attention back on the dark world outside. “It doesn't matter."

“Okay… well…"

"I'm going for a run.”

He steps a bit toward her, stumbling on the small step between the two rooms. “Not a good idea, Miss Appleton."

Her brow lifts up, but the rest of her remains in place. “Miss?"

Jenson's throat clears, resonating like a cranky bear being pulled out of hibernation. “Colt told me to be respectful.” He hesitates for a few seconds before saying with a grin, “Ma'am?"

She smiles despite herself. “Please, Jenson, I’ve already told you to call me Becky like a million times."

“Either way, still not a good idea.” The hard edge of his tone is unavoidably clear.

“I’ll be fine—and less cranky if I go for a run. That way we both win. Honestly, I won’t be long. I just like to… run at night."

As she walks past the large brick fireplace in the middle of the room she notices something on the table.

“What's this?" she asks, picking up a paintbrush from a pile of brushes, oil paints and art books.

Jenson comes to stand by her. “They were in a box in the van.” He sounds as clueless as she is. When she looks up to him for an answer he offers her a shrug. "He forgot to give it to you before he left, I guess.”

Her mouth opens for several seconds before she actually says anything. "Colt brought these for me?”

“Dunno," he replies. "You like to paint or something?"

“Yeah…” She shakes her head, brushing her hand across her cheek. "Yeah... sometimes."

She settles the paintbrush back to where it had been, laying it on top of the rest and backing away from the stack like they're about to eat her alive. She hurries even faster toward the door.

She definitely needs to run.

Becky is out of the house before Jenson can stop her.

*     *     *

JENSON IS REALLY BAD
at hiding.

She guesses he's been following her for at least a good hour. She doesn’t turn though.

The run tonight has hit the spot. All Becky can do to not make herself crazy is run. There is no place to escape like at home in her attic. Her room here in Aston is too sterile, too abnormal. There is no comfort in a place that reminds her minute-after-minute of her very real predicament.

She is trapped.

It’s always been her greatest fear. To be buried so far deep into something that there is no way out, no sign of a new beginning. She never does anything, never goes anywhere, never risks anything. Not after everything she’s been through…

Colt had told her once that she played life—her life—safe. He was right. And the nagging sensation in her heart won’t subside. It’s relentless, tugging at her. The one person who she’s wanted, who’s dared her to stop hiding from life, had lied to her.

How is she supposed to trust Colt when she can’t trust herself around him? Why does he get to her?

God, the truth, the lies, they are all so mixed together, her head is spinning. If she really wants to come clean and brush away the clutter, the truth is: She wants to trust Colt. Even after all the bad done to her she wants him so badly it scares her. The pull to trust him is so strong. It's like a physical force drawing all her strengths, her weaknesses, her wants, desires, toward him like a tornado scooping her up as if she’s made of tissue paper.

How on earth can she feel any sort of connection to the man responsible for tearing her family apart?

When they’re alone it’s the worst. The gravitational energy between them is so fierce it scares and excites her. She just wants to be done with this insaneness going on inside her.

Colt Lawson is a killer; she is his captive. He sees her as nothing else but a means-to-an-end. She sees him as a... as…

A blush scorches across her face despite the approaching autumn weather. She kicks at the leaves underneath her sneakers. Using the tip she makes circles in the muddy dirt as she sits on the flat rock outside the opening of the little woods.

She hears the crunch of leaves. Leaning forward Becky decides the time for silence is over. She then hears more rustling and a crack. The small bark sounds off over her left shoulder.

“Jenson?” She peers over her left shoulder as she presses her chin onto the edge of the bone. “You can come out of hiding now.”

*     *     *

ROMAN TAKES A DEEP BREATH;
filling his lungs with the crisp, cool evening air. No matter how many times he does this his stomach still ties itself in knots, his heart hammers in his chest and he can’t seem to stop himself from chewing at his bottom lip.

He'd landed the chopper a few miles away following orders from Kulich to cut through the woods and sneak up through the back entrance to Colt's cabin. He’d been trekking for about an hour when he came across something.

A girl running through the woods.

He’d followed her, making sure not to be seen and then hid behind a huge tree when she’d stopped in a clearing.

Watching her now he draws a deep breath through his nose. He can smell her. She is so pretty and innocent looking, unlike the whores he often fucks back home. Her body is petite, tight and curvaceous in all the right places, and he knows it's the innocent ones who are usually the most dirty in bed.

She calls out, “I caught you! Come out, come out.”

Shit!
The pretty young thing’s found him. The last guy who fucked-up an assignment was shot in the head by Kulich. Roman can't let her get away. There’s only one thing he can do.

Kill her.

Maybe he’ll get to play with that tight body, after all.

Chapter Twenty-Three

THROWING HIS LEATHER JACKET
on the couch he shakes his head as he scans the living-room then the dark hall to his left. He's been riding all night. He's tired, irritated his plan went south and Luis's nerves have only just added to his problems. He just wants one good night’s sleep and then a good cup of real coffee.

“Wow, you must've flew. You're here early."

“Where is she?"

“Dude, you must be hungry. Made your favorite. Honey turkey sandwich." Colt just stands, eyes stagnant. Jenson shrugs. “Okay turkeys out. How 'bout a drink? You must be thirsty after the long trip."

Colt doesn’t budge. “Where is she? Don’t make me ask you twice."

“She?"

“Jenson!"

“Oh she… you mean Becky—Miss Appleton, I mean… She... Right, well, um, you see… it's all very complicated. Actually it's not complicated, more like she's complicated. Okay complicated is not the word I'd use more like complex. Becky... Miss Appleton, she's ah… she's quite a girl, ya know?" Colt's face, if possible, darkens. “I mean I don't know...
personally
that is… Me and her were like on opposite ends of the room the whole time. Never even paid attention to her—no, I mean I paid attention, obviously. Duh. I just didn't pay close attention like you would."

Disregarding the two steps between the room Colt makes a short jump minimizing the distance between him and his former Sergeant-at-Arms by half.

“Not that you would pay close attention. I mean… uh… What's the question?"

“Becky, Jenson, Becky," he growls.

“Oh, she's uh… just taking a little jog outside the house. Getting a breather before—”

“The fuck, Jenson? It's night."

“Yeah it is. I see that... She likes to run at night..."

“You let her go for a run this time of night? Are you fucking crazy?!” he yells, turning to grab his jacket and head out the door.

“Colt, wait!” Jenson shouts to stop him. “She's been right near the house. Look.” He shakes something in his hand. “Got binoculars. Can see her at the edge of the woods—she's fine. I've been watching her from in here."

Not relieved Colt barks back, “You're not watching her now. Are you?"

“That is true,” Jenson says, looking back out the garden through the binoculars.

Colt pounds to his side, his breathing heavy. “Well?"

Jenson gulps. "Oh shit."

“What?” Colt rips the instrument from his hands.

Jenson is making a leap for the back door as he shouts, “She ain’t there, man!”

*     *     *

“JENSON? COME OUT. YOU’VE BEEN CAUGHT
.” She takes a few steps toward a group of trees, unsure of exactly where he is hiding. “Jenson?"

Why isn’t he coming out…?

Something doesn't feel right... Wait...

The wind is blowing something fierce now. The woods seem to grow denser.

Run.

Her instinct tells her to run.

Her footsteps halt, the crunch of leaves silencing around her, the house a mere speck over her shoulder now. Her breathing increases, her heart is pumping out of her chest threatening to burst from the cold and strangling feelings. She turns, starts to walk away, slowly, quietly, quickening her steps.

But when she thinks she hears the crunching of heavy footsteps and still no reply she starts to sprint.

What if Kulich saw right through Colt’s lies…?

Oh God… They've found me.

The thought is enough to set her to a full-throttle run, her feet hitting dirt and hidden lumpy hills that spring from nowhere. She's too scared to look back. There’s the occasional jagged stone scattered among the trail and just when a large looming shadow of a stranger starts to break apart from the crowding darkness, Becky's foot catches between two large protruding stones, jolting her body off balance and pitching her off to the side. The fall comes so hard and fast she has no time to shield her face or body.

One second she is running and the next she is face forward, stumbling out of control. Her body feels like it’s being thrown about by some invisible force. There is nothing she can do except wait until something forces the tumbling momentum to a stop. Her arms, her legs, every part of her is hitting a million different pieces of rock, woods and ground. She is somersaulting downhill, the speed increasing with every strike of her body into the ground.

Then, out of nowhere, a large rock cuts off the snowballing motion. Her body jerks forward, her shins bashing the rock first. The collision is so strong it propels her upper body forward and her forehead smacks into the center of the large obstruction.

The strike is so powerful Becky watches the world around her fall to darkness. Almost in slow motion a pair of gigantic black boots stomp across the ground, shaking the very earth beneath her.

And she’s right in the center of their path.

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