Page 34 of One Kill

“Later is damn right.”

At first, I thought I’d carry her, but as soon as I tried to pick her up, she flinched. Clearly, walking is going to be easier. I hold her steady by the waist, my skin against her skin, my fingers just above her hip keeping her upright.

“You okay, Jaybear?” I whisper my question as we pass by Hallie’s room, trying my best to make as little noise as possible. It’s a school night and I can’t bring this kind of stress to my kid.

“Yeah, I’ll be dandy.” Sarcasm, it’s her M.O., I’m learning. It didn’t used to be so much. Yeah, she was always different, always sharp with her wit. Observant, too. When we were kids, we were sure we’d become cops. Fighting the good fight, putting away the bad people and saving the innocents.

Now look at us.

I have no idea what she does but I can guarantee it’s not law enforcement. Although, I wouldn’t put it past her to be an enforcer of some kind.

Once we’re in my master suite, I undress down to my boxers, hesitating for a second before taking those off, too. It seems ridiculous to wear them after what we shared last night. We’re well past that.

“Do you want me to take off your bra and panties?”

“I can do it.” As soon as she bends at the waist, her knees buckle from what I’m guessing is the sharp pain at her side, right where that bruise is getting darker and darker. “Fuck.”

“Alright, that’s enough. You’ve played your hard ass, didn’t cry or beg for help. I get it, J. You’re the toughest person I know, but right now? I’m here, and I’m telling you… I’m going to help you and you’re going to let me.” If her eyes rolled any higher she’d be counting the satellites up in the sky.

As I slide her panties down her legs, I place my lips just above her belly button and thank God she was wearing her riding clothes and her helmet. I don’t know how bad her fall was, but if this is what she looks like with her equipment on, I don’t want to imagine what happens without it.

The contact of my mouth against her cold skin makes her shiver and I’m hoping it’s the good kind. She knows she’s safe with me, in all aspects of her life, but Jordyn has lost too much to be fully trustful of anyone.

Once we’re both in the shower, I make sure to do a thorough wash of her, from head to toe. With gentle fingers, I lather her up, caressing her as I massage what I’m sure are achy muscles. When I kneel at her feet and look up at her, I see the spark in her eyes, the want, the need. I know it’s reflected right back in mine but this is neither the time nor the place. Well, it could definitely be the place just not right now.

“Make me feel good?” Steadying herself against the tile walls, she buries her nimble fingers in my hair and pulls me closer to her pussy, all wet and spread open for the taking. I know what she wants… she wants a distraction from the throbbing in her side, but when I fuck her or make her orgasm, it’ll be because she needs me, not as a substitute for daytime television.

Standing looks painful but I don’t have a seat in here, it never occurred to me to install one.

“I’m almost done, Jaybear, hang in there.” Her grunt is not in acknowledgement, it’s in annoyance, and that simple fact makes me grin up at her. At this rate, she’ll be back in love with me in no time.

I’m a patient man and she’s the love of my life. What could possibly go wrong?

The next morning, I’m the one leaving her a note as I get up, get dressed, and take a completely unsuspecting Hallie to school on my way to work. As soon as we pull up, Hallie gives me a kiss on the cheek and pushes open the front passenger door, then pauses before turning back.

“You’re letting all the cold air in, Hal.” It’s fucking freezing and that sky looks like it might dump a ton of snow on us at any time.

“Do you think Mom will want to live with us?” My immediate reaction is silence, my brain going back to this morning. Did she go into my bedroom? See Jordyn?

“Why do you ask that?”

“Hallie! Come on, we’re gonna be late!” With a shrug, she bolts out of the car, throwing a, “See ya!” over her shoulder as she runs up to her friend—yes, they’re friends again—Bridget. Ah, teenage friendships have more drama than the Kardashian sisters.

Her question stays with me all the way to the shop where I continue to think about it throughout the morning and well into the early afternoon. Close to half past one, Riley Callahan struts in, his usual Wall Street Journal under his arm and a thick coat protecting him from the light dusting of snow outside.

“What’s up, Murph? How’s business?” Riley Callahan is a name that means something around here. He and I grew up together back in the day. I don’t remember a single day of my life without him. There are rumors that he’s training to take over his father’s business, but I don’t get involved in that part of their shit. I crunch the numbers, make sure all the cars are looking good and legal, then do all the necessary paperwork for them to sell them back at double the price after minimal work on them… mostly aesthetics.

“It’s all settled. That Beemer in the back is good to go but you may want to change the color. It’s a pretty distinctive green, not a lot of them around here.” Glancing up at the clock on the wall, I begin putting my things in order so I can go home, check on Jaybear, and eat a bite before picking Hallie up at school.

“We’re moving it to Miami, it’ll sell like fuckin’ hotcakes there.” He’s not wrong but still… it’s not an everyday color, but whatever. “By the way, heard a rumor about you.”

I chuckle at this because our girls are constantly fictionalizing our lives with their dreams and expectations.

“Ah, you got word about my pancake making skills. Told you I could cook.” I’ve got all my papers in my backpack and I’m about to walk out the door when his next words stop me dead in my tracks.

“Nah, I hear you’ve got fresh pussy at the ready. Even rides a bike?” Riley and I never talk about women here. This is our place of business and we’ve always kept our lives separate. I don’t want my personal information bouncing off the walls of this place and I don’t want the Irish information bouncing off the walls of my home. It was our deal and, for the last thirteen years, it’s been held up.

I decide to shut this down because, for a reason I can’t explain, I don’t want to share the news about Jordyn just yet. Or ever. I know for a fact the Irish mob doesn’t want anything to do with her. Their debts were settled when her parents paid the price with their lives. More even since she disappeared and Hallie was raised without a mother. Still, something just isn’t sitting right with me. After all, he is the son of the man who ordered the hit.

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