NIX (Daring the Kane Brothers) Page 3

  Fuck!

  It takes me a second to realize I’m in my bed at home, and I’m not alone.

  I reach over to the nightstand, grab my glasses, curl my arm, and in one smooth motion, the frames land squarely on my face. The darkness sharpens, and the blurry shape takes form at the end of my bed.

  Smashed into my ribs with every vessel constricted, my heart tightens.

  Dressed all in black, the masked intruder’s head tilts, and an arm rises to reveal a gun. What the fuck? With my heart still wedged into my rib cage, I sit up. Quick and short, my breaths break through the quiet darkness. Blood rushes through me, trying to rescue my strangled heart. My eyes dart from gun to mask.

  Like it’s floating, the figure moves to my nightstand, flicks on the dim light, and tosses my laptop on the bed. The faint tap of a gun against the laptop echoes in my ears, ensuring that I am not dreaming. There is a stranger with a gun in my house!

  I shake my head and cross my arms over my chest. I know what he wants. Holding the gun on me, the figure leans forward and opens my laptop. A piece of paper falls silently like a feather onto the keyboard. My eyes flint from the paper to the long slender arm, narrow waist…wait! Shit!

  He’s a she!

  My back straightens. Who the hell is she? What does she want?

  The gun waves at the piece of paper. I pick it up and read it. Password.

  “Not happening.” I crumple the note and throw it across the room.

  As if prepared for the outcome, the intruder throws another piece of paper at me.

  I grab it from my mattress and open it. Are you alone?

  Fuck! She knows Becca is here. I crumple the threat up and whip the tight wad of paper at the wall. I look up, unable to discern the color of her eyes in the dim light, unable to distinguish the familiar scent wafting around her and the fucking gun.

  She walks over to the crumpled paper on the floor, the one with the word Password written on it. Gun level on my chest, she reaches down, picks it up, and throws it underhand back at me. I catch it, knowing this isn’t going to stop. She came for something, and she came prepared with a damn gun. She moves toward me and taps my laptop with the tip of the pistol, reminding me that she’s not just a woman with a request. Obviously, she’s a trained bitch with a weapon who broke into my house in the middle of night and threatened not only me but my daughter.

  And, sure, ya see this shit in the movies, but I never thought it’d happen to me. I guess this is what you get for working for the government. I should probably be thankful it took five years for this shit to catch up to me.

  I click the laptop on. Eyes burning down at the bright screen, I wait for the password prompt to pop up, and when it does, I don’t hesitate. Becca’s life isn’t worth whatever this woman wants. I type in my password, and my desktop opens. I push the laptop from my thighs, unconcerned. For when it comes down to it, I gotta be better than her, right? That’s why the government keeps me on their payroll.

  Reaching behind her back, she comes around with what looks like black string. She holds her hands out and taps her wrists together. Oh, okay. I raise my arms out and smile up at her. Now how is she going to tie me up and still hold the gu—what the fuck? Before my head can finish the thought, she’s got the zip tie around me wrists. One quick pull and I’m bound tight. Trying to pry my arms apart, I look up, knowing there’s gotta be a smile under that damn mask, and press upward. With the gun fixed in my direction, she wags a finger and points toward Becca’s room. The unspoken threat lowers me back on to the mattress. I sense her smile is no doubt growing bigger with defeat as she reaches over and grabs my laptop. She walks it to my desk and sets it down. Then she glides my chair over to me. Standing behind it, she pats the chair.

  Motherfucker, the bitch has me. I can’t fight her. Not with Becca in the next room. If Becca wasn’t here, then maybe I’d fight her but not likely. I don’t give a shit about what she wants. I didn’t ask for this job. The government gave me two choices: work for them or go to jail. I gotta say, though, it’s been an easy gig. Every few months, they contact me with a new program to hack, and sometimes, I may have to travel to a site. Hell, one time they blindfolded me all the way to the job. I opened my eyes to a sterile white room comprised of a desk and a laptop. Crazy shit, it pays good, and when I’m not being their bitch, I run my own company writing apps and programs and designing websites. Between that and a six-year-old, I keep busy. Not to mention, the occasional, okay, frequent afternoon quickies. Hey, a guy’s gotta get laid.

  I get up from the mattress with a grin. Clearly, this chick doesn’t know who she’s dealing with. I’m not on the government’s payroll because I’m good.

  Obviously, they’re smart enough to know that I’m the best!

  I drop down into the leather chair. A rope swings in front of me, and like I’ve been lassoed, I feel a quick tug. A second later, she moves back over to my desk, sets the gun down, and turns her attention to my laptop.

  I watch her hit the keys. That’s right, I think, rolling my shoulders and working the rope, you go ahead and think you’re going to get what you want. Bitch woke me with a gun to my chest while making threats to the most important person in the world to me, so fuck the government. She made this personal, so she’s gettin’ nothin’ from me. She slips a USB drive into the side of my laptop, clicks a few more keys, and looks up at me.

  I smile at her. “I hope you enjoy the recipes. I recommend the pan-roasted brined pork chops and the braised brisket. Oh and don’t forget to download the laundry files. I have a couple of good tips on how to get grass stains out of pants.”

  Rising from her bent position, she picks up the gun and slips it into the back of her pants. The action arches her body, accentuating a set of perky tits. Eyes now adjusted to the dim light, every curve and line of her shapely female body comes into complete focus as she moves toward me. She stops, halting the wrestling of my wrists.

  I freeze and wait, not sure what the hell she’s up to now. She has the laptop. She’s downloading shit from it. What more does she want?

  She stands staring at me for a few long, dragged out seconds. All the while, I remain silent. I know where the gun is, and it’s close. Her head slowly dips and tilts as if she’s examining me, but for what? Where to shoot me, perhaps. My heartbeat quickens when her eyes pause at my dick. Then she really fucks with me. She leans forward, rests her hands on my shoulders, and the bitch sits on me! I mean, fully straddles me. It’s not enough she’s got me hogtied, but now she’s going to take me for a ride. What does she think I am, a fucking animal? A toy?

  What the fuck!

  Come on, really?

  My head drops back.

  Now, really? I feel a hard-on coming on. If I don’t get it under control, she’s going to…

  Fuck! What’s she doing now? Why is she lifting her mask? Maybe she doesn’t care if I see her face. Maybe she plans on killing me after she gets what she wants. What about Becca? Oh! Shit! I gotta do something!

  My muscles tense, preparing for a fight, but I go stock-still when the mask stops after revealing plump pink lips. Her head tilts downward, and those uncovered lips fall softly upon mine. My shocked flesh begins to relax until it’s melting against hers. She pulls her soft mouth from mine, and in slow motion, I feel us separate.

  “What the fuck?” I whisper over her lips. The warmth of her breath mingles with mine, bringing to life the hot seat my ass is currently tied to. But I’ll be damned, I want another taste of her sweetness. I press forward and capture her lips. Her thighs tighten around me, locking my body to hers. She palms my face, directing my head. Her tongue slips inside, finding mine ready for a fight, so the moist, fleshy battle begins. She grinds against me, and I get harder with each movement. I can’t stop my fucking dick’s reaction to her. Can’t quit the dirty and improper thoughts racing through my mind. She’s got me tied up, bound for her taking. Hell, there’s a gun involved, threats, and I can’t stop myself from getting turned on.
When it comes to sex, I’ve never found my threshold. Ya know, the point when you start shaking your head and say nuh-uh, I’m not doing that. Fuck! One would think this would be that point, but my dick just keeps trying to break free from the material between us to get inside her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Hey!” There’s a soft tap on my shoulder. “Daddy!”

  My eyes flick open, and I sit straight up to find Becca standing over me. I look to the left, then the right as the night before rushes through me. “Shit!” I slump back against the wall and blow out hard.

  Head tilted to the side, lips pursed, and eyes narrowed, Becca stares down at me like the time she watched me pull a potato eye from my ear. “Daddy, why are you sleeping on the floor outside my room?”

  “Oh.” I push myself up, her big green eyes following my every move. “I came to, ah, wake you up for school, and ya know what?” I tap her on the nose.

  “What?”

  “I realized it was too early, so I sat down and must’ve fallen back to sleep.”

  Her eyebrows squish closer together.

  “So …” I smile. “What do you want for breakfast?”

  She stares at me for a few seconds. “You’re weird.” She stomps off toward the bathroom.

  “Okay.” I lift a finger. “Pancakes, it is!” I hear the door slam shut. I don’t know how I’m going to do it. We haven’t even hit double digits yet, and she tests me every day.

  I set out to the kitchen to start breakfast, but what I should be doing is calling Dwayne Abel, my government contact, to discuss the unexpected guest at my house last night. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for. She broke into my home, accosted me with a gun, tried to steal some files, and then kissed me. Yeah, that’s the part that’s got me all screwed up. The kiss. It was strange but familiar.

  I’m an idiot, though. A gun in the same vicinity of Becca should’ve had me dialing Dwayne’s number the second the bitch shoved me in a corner, cut the ties, and disappeared from my room. Still, I didn’t feel threatened. At least, not in a way that would’ve been detrimental to me or Becca. In the back of my mind, even while I was handing over my unlocked laptop, I never felt Becca was in danger. It’s odd too, considering my number one feeling toward Becca, besides loving her, is to protect her. Well, I guess that’d be my number two, but I’d say it’s still pretty high on the Richter scale. Not like number thirty-six, which would be worrying about what she wears to school.

  I grab my cell. I’ll call Dwayne … and just like that, my cell starts ringing in my hand. I swipe the screen. “Hey, bro.” I chuckle into the cell. “Last I heard, you were in love somewhere in Chicago with someone named Jay.”

  “Fuck you, dickhead,” my eldest brother, Steele, grumbles into the phone. Nonetheless, it’s good to hear his voice.

  “No, really, how are the lovebirds doing? How’s Jay?”

  “Good. We’re packing up her stuff now.”

  “Ah.” I point at the plate of pancakes as Becca enters the room. She tosses me a smirk and sits down to eat. “So she movin’ to Cali for ya? Token did mention something to me about it.”

  “Yeah, can’t tell him nothin’.”

  “Not since Harley. Hopefully, Jay doesn’t make you go all soft and gooey on the inside too.” I laugh.

  “It’s not called being soft. It’s called growing up and realizing there’s more to life than chasin’ after every PTA mom.”

  “Not every one of them.” I step into the bathroom out of earshot from my daughter and stand in front of the mirror. “There are a couple of dudes. And even though David Kitt, Emmie’s dad, is gay, he’s single and not bad lookin’.” I swipe my armpit with some deodorant. “And then there’s Reece’s mom. She’s a lesbian, but I swear I caught her checking out my ass a few times.” I twist and glance at my butt in the mirror. “But I gotta say, it’s not a bad lookin’—”

  “Okay. Alright. I wasn’t looking for a rundown of potentials, and dude, it’s a Kane thing. The nice ass thing. Apparently, we all have ’em. That’s what Jay says.”

  “Really? Your girlfriend thinks I have a nice butt?”

  “Shut up. I didn’t call to talk about your ass, you ass.”

  “No?” I fix my hair and scrub my chin. “Then what’d you call for?”

  “Stone? Have you heard from him lately?”

  “Now you know he doesn’t come around here, on account of Becca. He’s no good with kids. At least, not since his last tour in Iraq.”

  “Yeah, I know that shit really fucked him up, but I thought maybe he reached out to you. I checked with Ma, Token, and Crash, and nobody’s heard from him since the last gig he played in town, and that was a while ago.”

  I turn my back to the mirror and lean against the counter. “Ya worried he might be usin’ again?”

  “Fuck, I hope not.” I hear a heavy sigh in the phone. Steele and Stone are tight. They have the same mom, different from the rest of us, but it makes no difference to me; they’re still family. “I don’t know what to do. When Jay and I get to Cali and get her unpacked, we have to head right back out to Orlando for a shoot.”

  “I thought you were done with the stunts?”

  “Yeah, not totally. Hey, listen, if you do hear from him, can you let me know?”

  “Sure, but you know he’ll call you before he does me, especially if he’s using again. He may not be able to deal with kids, but I know he won’t bring that shit around Becca.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Okay. Thanks, bro.”

  “No problem. Stay in touch,” I say and click off the cell. Damn, I hope Stone is okay. It’s been a while since his last intervention down at Uncle Rowdy’s cabin, but ya know the sayin’ once an addict, always an addict. I’m sure it’s something Stone struggles with every day, and while the rest of us might want to fight for him, it’s his battle. I think his music helps, but I’m not too sure about him still deactivating bombs for the government. It’s gotta bring up memories from Iraq. He did the same thing there. Fuck the government. Just like the drugs, once they got you, they always have you. At least, I can’t seem to break away.

  I stop in front of the school, and Becca jumps out. “Hey!” I yell.

  She spins around and runs over to my side of the car, her glittery pink backpack swinging from her arm. My heart jumps. She’s coming for a kiss! I can’t remember the last time she—

  “Don’t forget,” she says a little out of breath as she grabs the car door. “Harley’s picking me up from school today. Remember?” My heart settles back into its rightful place. She didn’t come for a kiss. “I’m going to the theater. Remember?”

  Honestly, I forgot all about it. Man, I need to start using the calendar in my phone like all the other moms. They always seem to have their shit together. I nod, lean forward, and tap my cheek.

  “Dad!” She squirms. When I tap it again, she takes a quick look around before she plants one on me. “Call ya later.” She waves as she runs for the school.

  “Love you, kiddo!” I call out, knowing how much she hates being called that, and knowing if she were ten years older, she’d likely be giving me the finger right now.

  Chuckling, I put the car in drive. I get on the road, ignoring the voice in my head that keeps telling me to call Dwayne Abel. I don’t want to think about last night; the more I do, the more I think about Lexi, and the way she smelled, the way she touched me, the way she kissed…

  Fuck, it wasn’t her. Yeah, that’s the other voice in my head I’ve been ignoring all morning. It couldn’t have been Lexi. I don’t know what I’d do if it was … I loved her with everything I had, and she left me.

  She left Becca.

  How could I forgive her for taking off on our kid? She was a year old. She needed her mom.

  So, no, instead of following up with the strange encounter last night, instead of listening to that annoying voice in my head, I decide to divert my attentions elsewhere.

  I pull into the Caulfield building’s busy parking lot, pa
rk the car, check my wallet for the credit card, and then enter the place. I stop at the front desk where a security guard is sitting.

  “Hey.” I glance over at the directory on the wall. “I’m looking for someone, but I’m not exactly sure where she works.” The physically fit twentysomething with a military haircut sits up a little straighter. Okay. He doesn’t look like he’s going to make this easy for me. “I dropped her off here the other day, and well”—I lift the credit card—“this must’ve fallen out of her purse or something. I wanted to get it back to her.”

  His eyes move to the computer on the desk. “Got a name?”

  “Payton Tucker.” I lean forward over the counter, and the guard’s eyes shoot up at me. Okay. I get it. I’m crowding his space, so I slink back.

  “There’s no Payton Tucker who works here.”

  “Are you sure? I dropped her off here yesterday. She told me she worked here. Can you check again?”

  “I don’t need to.” He glares up at me, and this time, I don’t slink back. I meet his glower. Not intimidated, his brow lifts. “Is that all then, sir?”

  Shit! “Yes.” I know when I’ve been beaten. I walk over to the directory. There are a few lawyers and real estate offices, a yoga studio, and some other companies I don’t know by name alone. Damn, we talked about her moving here but never discussed what she did for a living. Why didn’t I ask? Probably because I was stupefied by her beauty. Not to mention, I wanted to get in her pants. I gotta say, I’m proud of myself for the restraint. However, it’s the fucker in my pants that drove my nice butt, according to Jay, here.

  I walk back out to the car. Well, she’s left me no other choice. I’m going to have to google her, and I don’t like to do that. Nowadays, you can find out so much shit about a person on social media that it takes the mystery and fun away from getting to know them.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I pull into the Marilyn Stewart’s Theater fifteen minutes late, but I made it just the same. After I left the Caulfield building this morning, Ma called. She needed me to stop by and help Dad move a few things out of the garage. It took a little longer than expected. Dad likes to explain everything—when, where, and why he bought something—so we only moved four items. Then Ma insisted I stay for a late lunch that turned into dinner. Luckily, I didn’t need to pick up Becca until eight thirty.