Six Guns: Volume Two (9 page)

TEN

CROSS

“We need to talk.”

I was sick of this bodyguard shit. It wasn’t working out for me, and I had to stand up and voice my opinion to Nicky. He had been so busy lately, it took me a few days to get him totally alone where he wasn’t exhausted and ready to pass out. He’d just gotten out of the shower, the towel wrapped snugly against his abs, which were really becoming prominent since he’d started working out in the gym downstairs, so I figured this would be an opportune time. He was wide awake and had had his coffee.

“What’s up?” he asked, ruffling his wet hair with both hands as he looked in the mirror.

My eyes lingered on top of the towel which kept creeping lower and lower as he continued to mess with his hair. “I tried, Nicky, I really did.”

He turned around to look at me then, one of his hands resting against the dresser.

I threw my hands up in the air and sighed. “I gave Stan a chance. It’s just not working out with him.”

“Lilah…”

“I know what you’re going to say before you say it, so you don’t have to even waste your breath.”

He put his hands on his hips. Damn, he looked sexy.

I forced my eyes back up to meet his. “This whole bodyguard thing…well, Stan doesn’t know what that means. He’s obnoxious, Nicky. It’s starting to affect business with Cain Designs.”

“How?”

Just thinking about Stan made me furious. “He’s rude to customers. He butts into my conversations with important people. He’s disgusting with the way he eats and burps loudly. He’s a slob, and I can’t stand him being around me for another moment.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” The corner of Nicky’s mouth tugged upward into a smirk.

Damn that smirk. He was sucking me in. No. No. I wanted to stay furious.

He lifted up his finger. “Come here.”

“No.” I pressed my lips together tightly. I wanted an answer. I wanted him to tell me I was right, that he’d make Stan go away. “I won’t.”

“What’s it going to take to make you come here, right now?” he asked, his dark eyes smoldering as he did so.

He was so frustrating, making me melt like putty in between his fingers. I wasn’t going to fall for it this time. Nicky Cain
always
got what he wanted. Now it was my turn to make a decision. “I know it’s for my safety, but what about my sanity? Don’t you need to take that into consideration also?”

“Lilah…” he said again in a low, deep tone.

“I’m not coming over there.”

“Until?”

I tapped the front of my shoe against the hardwood floor. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Until you tell me that Stan’s been fired as my bodyguard.”

The other side of his mouth curled up into a broad grin. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re pissed off.”

“I’m being serious, Nicky!” I yelled out.

He tried to hide his amusement then as he raised his finger again and motioned for me to come over.

“No.” I refused.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay what?”

“Stan’s no longer your bodyguard.”

“Effective immediately?”

“Effective immediately.”

“Thank you.”

He raised his eyebrows then. “Come. Here.”

And just like that, I walked over to him and into his extended arms as he wrapped them tightly around me. He skin smelled like the pine soap he’d just showered with. There were tiny beads of water still lingering on his back as I pressed my hands against his warm skin. He just held me. I felt safe, secure, protected. I sucked in a deep breath. I wanted to savor him. He was mine for just this moment, knowing he’d go off with whatever he did during his day and return home a rattled mess.

Finally, Nicky spoke as he pulled me gently away from him to take a look at me. “Let me teach you how to defend yourself.” His large hands brushed back some stray strands of hair on the sides of my head. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you, Lilah. It’s my job to protect you always.”

I could literally feel myself melting at the sound of his words. They were smooth like honey. I could feel it in my core. This was Nicky Cain telling me he cared for me, that he took time out of his crazy day to think about my wellbeing. They were sweet words, ones I’d lock away for safekeeping in the depths of my heart.

“Let me show you how to shoot a gun.”

I studied his eyes. This was important to him. “Okay,” I whispered in response. I watched as Nicky let the towel drop to the floor and bent over to retrieve a pair of black gym shorts from his dresser drawer. He put them on and went into the closet. I knew he kept weapons in there. He had weapons
everywhere.
He soon came back with a handgun.

“Stop drooling over my gun,” he said, watching my face.

“It’s not that gun I’m drooling over,” I mumbled, thinking of him naked moments ago.

He cocked his head to the side for a moment before turning all serious on me. “Okay. Put it in your right hand. Feel the weight of it.”

“It’s not too heavy.”

“No. It’s actually pretty light. It’s like that one you took from your father.”

I remembered that well. I’d lied to my father and made him believe that Mark was going to hurt me, that I was afraid of him. In reality, I had plans to use that to kill Mark. Instead, Nicky ended up being the one completing the task for me.

Nicky moved behind me and moved my arms in position so that they were up in the air. He placed his hands over mine, his mouth beside my ear. “It’s easy, baby. Aim at your target. See?”

“Uh-huh.” I was aiming, but all I could concentrate on was his warm breath tickling my earlobe.

“Here’s the safety. Click it off.” His finger slipped over top of mine. “Like that. And of course pull the trigger. Make sure the fucker’s dead, then get out of there. You try.”

I held it up and did as he said. “I got it, Nicky.”

“Hit the guy in the head. I don’t want you just injuring him and having him try to come back after you.”

I lowered the gun and turned to him. “Don’t worry.”

“I
am
worried. This whole lifestyle is one big mind fuck. I’m worried about everything. I’m worried about
you.”
Nicky slid his fingertip down the side of my face.

I put the gun down on the nightstand and turned to face Nicky. He brought his entire palm up to my face. I leaned into his hand, relishing in the warmth and comfort of his touch.

“You know, you can leave if you want to,” he whispered.

My heart began hammering inside of me. I didn’t dare move as a single tear slid down my cheek and brushed against the skin of his hand.

“This life…I didn’t mean to drag you into it.”

I closed my eyes shut tight. Just hearing him utter those words caused burning pain in my chest. “Nicky…no.”

“Listen to me, Lilah. Open your eyes.”

I opened them. I stared at his face. Beautiful Nicky with his cut jaw line and intense dark eyes. He had this power over me. Didn’t he know that? Of course he knew that. He had to.

“Nothing will happen to me,” I whispered to him, more tears streaming down my cheeks, and I didn’t even know why. This life is what was tearing us apart at times. It was also what brought us together. Everything confused me, including the way I felt. Sometimes Nicky was so cold toward me. But when he did want me—god it was so hot. He could be full of passion and make me feel alive in ways I’d never experienced before.

He continued to stare at me as if he were struggling with his thoughts—what to do, what to say. My mouth felt suddenly dry. I was nervous with what he could be thinking. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything about Stan. Maybe I should’ve tried to tolerate him.

Nicky wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up, making my legs straddle his waist. He carried me into another room—one I had only been in briefly and stood in front of the window with Nicky—Carmine’s meeting room. The large table sat empty in the middle of the room.

He threw me down roughly, the hard surface digging into my back as he pushed me down. He stood back up then and lowered his black gym shorts before he climbed on top of me on the table. Nicky’s dark eyes were smoldering again. I was beginning to become very accustomed to that look and the way it made me feel inside.

“I’m going to use you now, Lilah,” he admitted. “You help me be able to feel again. You take away all the pain.”

I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t even move as I processed what he was saying. He was using me—again. I knew I was Nicky’s escape from the horrors of his reality. And strangely, I was okay with it.

His eyes never left mine as he ripped open my blouse and lifted the bottom of my skirt. His hand was on the inside of my thigh as I arched my back just waiting—wanting. I reached up and ran my fingers through the back of his brown hair that was still damp from his shower. He pressed against me, his hardened length against my leg as he released his hold with my eyes and ravished my mouth with his tongue. He wasn’t taking this slow. No, he needed his release. When he entered me just as roughly as he’d placed me down on the table, I gasped and held on for dear life as I let Nicky forget—if only momentarily—exactly who he was as he buried himself in me again and again.

I raked my fingers down his back as he bit down hard on my shoulder. I stared up at the ceiling, the magnificent chandelier hanging down painted in dark stones and metals, as Nicky’s thrusts grew stronger and more violent. I didn’t scream out though. I let him cling to me and do with me what he would as I silently prayed that this wouldn’t be the last time that Nicky Cain needed me like this. Something told me things were changing more drastically in Nicky’s world than even I was aware of. Nicky said he was worried about me. Maybe I should be the one worried about him—about us.

ELEVEN

CAIN

“Nicky! You in here?”

I walked out of the kitchen to the large doors that led to the elevator. Seton was standing there shaking his head.

“What is it? I’m in the middle of getting something to eat.”

“You’re going to want to see this.”

“What?” I asked. What in the hell could possibly go wrong now?

Seton pointed to the window behind me. “Take a look for yourself.”

I peered outside where I saw a few of my men—Brock in particular—pushing some other guy around. He looked…old. All I could see was his shaggy shoulder-length gray hair. Then he turned around, and I got a good look at his face.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

“Told you,” Seton said, hurrying to follow me as I reached for my coat.

I scrambled to get out to the front of the mansion as quickly as possible. I was furious, my fist ready at my side to kick some ass as I opened the front doors and went right in between Brock and the guy I recognized to be my pathetic piece of shit uncle.

Grabbing the old man by his shirt collar, I ripped him around to face me. His eyes were large with alarm at first, then recognition. A smile revealing a lot of missing teeth spread out over his face as if he were happy to see me. “What are you doing here?” I growled at him, my other hand still clenched into a fist.

“Nicky!” he exclaimed, trying to extend his arms like he was going to hug me.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I warned him, giving him a shove backward. “What are you doing here?” I repeated. Man, I hated having to repeat myself, especially to a man I completely loathed with every fiber of my being.

“Who is this guy?” Brock asked. He looked angry as hell.

I didn’t say anything.

“What happened?” I asked him.

“This asshole came right in and acts like he owns the goddamn place,” Brock explained. “Took a beer right out of my hand and put his mouth all over it.”

“Why are you here, Dusty?” I said loudly, acknowledging my uncle by his first name. He was my mother’s brother. She gave into him all the time, even when she had nothing. He was a leech, feeding off of others while he was lazy and did nothing, expecting everything to be handed to him as if the world owed him. I hated him for everything he wasn’t, especially a father for Stan when he was growing up. I didn’t have a chance to know Carmine as a child, but Dusty just stood by and let Stan raise himself, let his sister, my mom, raise him for her. He was pathetic—still was as far as I was concerned. And he should be back in Lazerne being the loser he always was. Lazerne is where he belonged.

“I’m here to see you, Nicky.”

“How’d you know where to find me?” I questioned him, but my eyes searched the small crowd of men as my brain processed it all at a million miles a minute. That’s when I found him cowering near one of the Triplets. “Stan?” I walked over to my cousin and got right in his face. “How does he know where I am, Stan?”

My cousin threw up his hands as I glared at him with disgust.

“You fucking told him?” I asked through gritted teeth, my temper getting the best of me now. Stan, of all people, knew exactly how I felt about his low-life so-called father. He knew because he supposedly felt the same way about the old bastard. “Did you?”

“I’m sorry, man,” Stan managed to get out.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re
sorry?”
I put my hands on my hips and turned back around to face my uncle. “Enlighten me,
Stan,
how this all came about. Why is this fucking piece of shit standing on my property? Tell me. Now. I’m not messing around, Stan. I’m really pissed. Just seeing his
face
makes me want to smash something.”

Stan sighed. His eyes moved to some of the other men observing what was going on. He was embarrassed, and I didn’t give a rat’s ass. Just the idea of Uncle Dusty knowing where I lived made me want to throttle my own cousin, my own flesh and blood. I was really holding back here. And how much had he told him? Did he know who I was now?

“He had some trouble back in Lazerne lately,” Stan started to explain.

I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah. So?”

“He didn’t have anywhere to go. I let him stay with me back in Lazerne.”

“You
what?”

Stan nodded. “He was going to be out on the streets. I just left to come out here. He called me not knowing where I was, so I just…sort of told him.”

I was absolutely sure my cousin could read the look on my face and just
knew
that I was struggling not to attack him physically. I grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him toward me. I got nose to nose with him.

“Nicky, he’s my father,” Stan hissed out.

“You did
not
just say that to me,” I growled, spinning him around and giving him a push toward the house. “Go. I’ll be in after I take care of this piece of shit father of yours.”

“Nicky…” Stan trailed off, looking back only once as he sulked toward the mansion.

I rested both hands on the back of my neck for a moment. I couldn’t even look up at Dusty yet. I felt everything that had been stirring inside of me coming to a head. My uncle was about to become a victim of my internal torments. I needed to take it out on someone, and this was the perfect opportunity.

“Leave,” I commanded everyone without looking up. “Everyone go. Now.” The sharpness of my tone was almost unrecognizable even to myself. I stood there stewing for a few more moments as I heard the sounds of vehicle engines starting and everyone doing exactly what I said. My eyes continued to stare down at the ground. By the time I did look up, there was only one person standing before me, Uncle Dusty. He looked awkward, as if he didn’t know quite what to do. Good. That’s how I wanted him to feel. He saw the look on my face, then glanced around the property as if trying to avoid what was about to happen. Then he finally met my stare again as he gave an equally awkward laugh.

“Nicky, boy, please let me explain,” he stammered.

“Save your breath, old man,” I told him. “I don’t know what Stan told you.”

“All he said was that he was in Haven…with you…”

I held up my hand motioning for him to stop. “Shut up. I told you to save your breath.”

My uncle gave out a small sigh of frustration.

“You are nothing to me. You caused my mother so much grief and pain. You abandoned your own child. Those are things I can never forget.”

“I…”

I held up my hand again, my temper still urging me to put a bullet in the bastard’s head right here, right now, and save the world another day with him breathing on the planet. He closed his mouth again. He looked even more aged than the last time I’d seen him, at my mother’s funeral. His hair was disheveled and badly in need of a cut, and it hung to the bottom of his ear lobes. The wrinkles on his face were more defined. But those eyes—those were the same hard, cold gray eyes that I remembered as a child. He hadn’t batted an eye when he left my mother crying for money he owed her, leaving us practically starving to death one time. He didn’t bat an eye when his own son cried out to him as he turned and walked out the door without a care. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of forgiveness now just because he was almost undoubtedly suffering from being a broke, lazy fucker.

“You don’t get to come in here and try and take advantage of what I have. You don’t get to try to mooch off of what Stan has either. What Stan has, I gave him. I get to decide what everyone does and doesn’t have, and you, Dusty, you get nothing.
Nothing.
It’s taking every fiber of my being right now just to let you walk out of here without breaking both your legs. I would love to see you writhe in agony. You have no idea how happy that would make me, but that’s the only mercy you’ll see me give you at this time. You will turn and go back to Lazerne in the same way you got here. You won’t ever step foot on my property again. You won’t ever try to contact either me or Stan again. You forget you even have a son. Didn’t take much for you to forget him when he was a boy. Forget him now. You don’t have a son. He doesn’t have a father. And if I ever see your pathetic fucking face again, have no doubt that I
will
break both of your arms and both of your legs and leave you for dead.” The side of my cheek twitched. “In other words, in terms you maybe can understand, you’re not fucking welcome here, so don’t come back again.”

Uncle Dusty’s bottom lip trembled for just a second before he realized he was cowering to his own nephew. Then, just like that, a light switch flipped, and his hesitation became that same kind of fierceness I remembered as a boy when he’d blamed my mother for everything wrong that had happened in his life, when he’d scream and rant about nothing at all and eventually get his own way. My mother gave him the money he didn’t deserve and then took in Stan for him, too.

“You’ve really changed, Nicky,” he said after a few moments of silent processing.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m not my mother, you mean? I’m not giving in to your bullshit? I don’t care about your current situation in life? Honestly, that’s been my position my entire life, so really nothing’s changed at all. You’ve never done a fucking thing for me. I owe you nothing.”

“But Stan…”

“Is none of your fucking concern, old man. He belongs to me now.”

Uncle Dusty’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned to go away. Then he spun around slowly and faced me again. “Nicky, I loved my sister. I want you to know that.”

“Everything that spews from your mouth is bullshit. Go away.”

I made sure he walked down the street to his piece of shit junky ass car and got in. I waited until he pulled away before going back to the mansion where now I had to deal with my idiot cousin.

Stan was sitting on one of the leather couches, a red-haired groupie stroking his head like he was a puppy dog, his head leaning against her chest.

“Get the fuck out of here.” As I glared at her, her eyes grew wide and she scurried out of the doors without saying a word. These skanks were creeping around here all the time now even when the speakers weren’t blaring. “Stand up and face me, Stan,” I insisted.

He stood then, but his eyes weren’t meeting mine.

“You know letting him come here is bullshit. It’s an embarrassment to me. I brought you in here, and you bring
him
in here.”

“I just felt bad for him. I thought maybe we could have a relationship after all these years. When your mom died…just had me thinking is all. Life’s too short,” Stan blurted out.

“My mother and your…father…I don’t even know how they can be related. They’re two completely different people. If you want me to spell out the difference for you, I will. My mother was there for me. Always. And Dusty wasn’t. It’s that cut and dry. He’s never going to change. He’s taking advantage of your fucking emotions. Grow a pair, Stan. This kind of shit I won’t put up with. You’re only getting away with it this one time because you’re my blood. You’re like a brother to me. That’s the
only
reason why I haven’t completely lost my cool with you, because believe me, I’m on the verge. It’s taking all I have right now to talk this calmly to you.”

“I didn’t tell him about the group,” he told me, the toe of his tennis shoe attempting to dig into the floor like he was some little kid who just got his hand caught in the cookie jar. “I just told him where I was, that I was with you, that I was staying. He asked if it was good here, and I told him real good. Guess he thought he could have a taste.”

I exhaled loudly. “No one comes here without my permission. Do you understand that? I’m already on the chopping block without having a snake like your old man lurking about. I’m serious, too. He better not come back. You’d better just keep your mouth shut in the future about anything and everything.”

Stan nodded. “I know, Nicky. Sorry.”

“Guess who’s going to have to take care of Dusty next time if he shows up again?” I watched him look up at me then, our eyes meeting. “You, Stan. I’ll make you kill your own father. So make sure it’s taken care of. Got it?” I knew I was being hard on him, but I had to be. These were the kind of mistakes that could cost me my life.

“Yeah.”

“And another thing,” I continued. “Why were you so rude to Lilah?”

“Listen, man, I’m sorry about that, too.”

“Why can’t you just act right? I brought you here thinking you’d be a fucking adult.”

Pausing to think for a moment, Stan crossed his arms. “I was giving her a hard time, yeah, but with good reason.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“There was this guy…”

I narrowed my eyes at him. Just when I thought my blood pressure couldn’t get any higher, he had to mention a guy and Lilah in the same sentence.

It seemed as if Stan was assessing my temper before he continued as he stared at me for a moment longer. “They were acting a little too friendly if you ask me. It happened two times when I was following her.”

“Wait.” I put my hand up, motioning for him to stop. “Start from the beginning. Who is this
guy?”