Page 3 of Captured Pawn
As I broke into a run, Pops flung the back door to the SUV open and right on time. The caravan of black SUVs, identical to my own, shot into view as I leaned in and unceremoniously dumped my human cargo onto the back seat. As expected, the brat tried to scramble across to exit from the opposite side door, letting out a groan of frustration at finding the door locked.
I couldn’t give a shit if she beat on the glass. The entire vehicle was bulletproof so the chances of her doing any harm with her pounding fists were nonexistent. That she wasn’t already on her knees sobbing her apologies to me was another gift to Matty. He’d always had a soft spot for his kid sister.
Stevie was behind the wheel, and he gunned it just as the first bullet bounced off the window next to Sophie. Despite the heaviness of having to bury my best friend, I couldn’t hold in the chuckle at the terrorized squeal of the woman next to me as she scrambled away from the window, falling back into my lap, flailing the whole time.
“They’re shooting at us!” she shouted the obvious, wiggling wildly until I was forced to wrap her in a tight squeeze to keep her settled.
“Yes,” I answered flatly.
“But… we need to call the police!”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Pops and Stevie in the front seat didn’t bother hiding their chuckles from the naive little girl sitting in my lap. Their obvious mirth enraged her further until I finally had to warn her. “This isn’t a police matter, Sophie. It’s a family matter and the family will handle it.” The tears I saw glistening in her eyes, waiting to spill down onto her cheeks, softened me until I offered a consolation. “The SUV is bulletproof. They can’t hurt us.”
Despite her tears, her words were like ice. “Oh, like they didn’t hurt Matty?”
“Your brother wasn’t shot,” I countered rather lamely.
“That’s right. He was run off the road while trying to escape a bunch of assholes like those shooting at us. That’s oh so much better.”
I didn’t bother arguing that technically, he had been trying to run them off the road, not the other way around. I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t make her feel better anyway.
As we shot out into the busy midday traffic around the cemetery, Sophie renewed her struggles to disentangle herself from me. Despite that, or maybe because of it, she was grinding that cute little ass of hers against my cock. I tightened my grip, holding her still in my lap.
I’ve always loved a good game of cat and mouse, and my dick, before my brain, had come to the realization that the tiny little mouse of a girl I remembered from her childhood had somehow grown up into a very real woman. Okay, maybe she was more like a kitten… lots of scratching and clawing, but no danger of doing much damage.
When her elbow connected with my jaw, I’d had enough. One quick smack to her ass settled her down nicely. Palming her curvy bottom, I warned, “Don’t make me take off my belt.”
The flash of anger in her eyes was immediate. We were face to face, close enough that I caught a whiff of mint as she fearlessly screamed, “You can’t possibly hurt me more than you already have! You stole my brother!”
Her thrashing was back, only this time her beating fists were accompanied with sobs of despair.
I hated it when women cried, unless of course, they were crying under my paddle, whip, or strap. Although, to be fair, I never came harder than when a woman had mascara-smeared tears streaking down her face as she looked up at me from her knees, my shaft choking off her air supply.
But tears of hysterics… sorrow like those dripping down onto my tie…
Well, shit. Those tears were making me hard too. Or maybe it was the thought of shoving Sophie off the seat to her knees and feeding her my cock. That would be a fun way to teach her how I expect her to behave going forward.
Except I did none of those things, in part because she was just a kid. I had to be at least ten years older than her, although I vaguely remembered Matt going to her college graduation the year before so she couldn’t be that young. More important, Matt asked me to take care of her… keep her safe… provide her with family protection.
So instead, I did something I never do… just held her while she cried it out. Seconds turned to minutes. Eventually, her sobs turned to sniffles, which turned to slow, steady whimpers.
Fuck me, she’d fallen asleep. She was crying in her sleep.
My gaze jerked up to the rearview mirror. Stevie’s shocked expression said it all.
I’m so fucked.
I didn’t do comforting. And the only reason I didn’t throw her across the back seat now was Stevie’s eventual small smile of understanding. He’d loved Matty too. Hell, everyone had. Matty was… had been… the life of the party kind of guy. The one person who got away with telling me like it was and could walk away unscathed, even when I didn’t want to hear it.
The unfamiliar crush of guilt was trying to weigh me down again, but I pushed it back. Matt had always known the score… the dangers… I never asked him to take any risks I hadn’t already taken a hundred times myself. We were in a dangerous business. That meant sometimes bad things happened.
Stevie easily lost the tail of the Bishop goons once he hit the 114. Even they were smart enough to know better than to follow us far enough south to be in Knight country. I was grateful for the silence as we drove along the picturesque Wampanoag Trail, crossing bridges and inlets as we weaved our way out to the Knight family estate, better known as The Compound.
We were within a few miles of The Compound when the little kitten in my arms started to stir.
“Where are we?” she mumbled.
When I didn’t answer, Pops offered up, “We’ll be home in about ten minutes.”
