Chapter 21: Ruger

Chapter Twenty-One

Ruger

I watch her body react to me before she says anything. Zayna the teacher. That means she’s smart, which means she has it in her to trick me. To use me up like Darlene did. Except… that’s not gonna happen again.

“Do you really think you should say that type of stuff in front of a baby?” she says, glancing at Eden in her chair.

“Eden can’t talk. She doesn’t speak English yet.”

“You could at least make an effort for her first word not to be the c-word.”

I close the distance between us. I’m done chopping up that garlic, and the smell just reminds me of how goddamn good Zayna is in the kitchen. Her food makes me horny and impatient. I edge closer to her, hoping she catches my subtle hints and appreciates my work with the garlic.

Zayna chops her little green vegetables faster and then sprinkles them over the fish. Frankly all the different variations on hunger happening inside me are getting confusing. Zeus barks as the scent of fish reaches his sleep spot. Zeus rushes over to sit at Zayna’s feet, forcing her a little closer to me. Perfect.

“Okay,” I whisper. “So long as you give me what I want. Let me put Eden down and we’ll talk over dinner.”

Zayna looks over at me with disdain and a little curiosity.

“It won’t be long.”

“Okay.”

I kiss her cheek. The first time I’ve done something like that in a while. She looks away from me and back at her fish dust preparation while I take Eden to lie down for a bit. She gets a fresh diaper change and a little time on my bare chest. She likes doing that because of how warm I am, and I like sleeping next to my little baby girl.

Eden curls her little hands up on my chest as I hold her there. She has thin wisps of blond hair. I can’t tell who she looks like – probably the asshole who fucked Darlene. Doesn’t matter. None of that matters anymore. She makes a soft noise and the weird sensation I felt the first time I held her gets stronger.

“I love you,” I whisper. And part of me thinks this baby is the first thing I ever loved. And that the woman in the kitchen might be the second. What I feel for both of them is different – different from the other and different from anything I might have ever felt in the past. Eden doesn’t hear me, because she is fast asleep. She smells like baby oil and a new diaper. I kiss her little head and she doesn’t wake up.

I hope I don’t screw you up.

My mom and dad screwed me up. I know that much. And I know that from the first time I held Eden, I wouldn’t do the same. Zayna wants me to kill – fine. I have no qualms about killing. But I need my assurances that the risk will be worth it. That all I have to do to get my traditional American family is kill three men.

Easier than what I did abroad. Easier than what I did to Darlene. But still. I need to be sure that if I do this for her, Zayna will stay. I set the sleeping baby down and walk out to the kitchen. Zayna has a little timer for that salmon. She made me get her this strange device from Amazon – I had it delivered to the post office and sent my cousin to pick it up – that cooks rice quickly.

She even cooks food for Zeus, who eats as fresh as we do.

“Eden’s sleeping.”

Zayna casts a tense glance in my direction. “Twenty minutes until dinner.”

“Twenty minutes to talk.”

“We could save the talking for dinner,” Zayna says, covering my kitchen counter in disinfectant and giving me a delightful view of her sexy ass wiping the counter clean. There is something so fucking hot about watching a woman cook and keep house. My ex-wife never did that shit, not even before she went to prison. Most biker chicks consider yelling at the McDonalds drive thru to be preparing a home cooked meal.

She walks to the other side of the kitchen to get her latex gloves for washing dishes that are hanging outside the cabin window to dry off. I steal my opportunity to follow her to the window sill like a loyal puppy and I use my arms to pin her against the window sill. Zayna forgets the gloves and swings around, pressing her ass against the window sill and her hands against my chest.

Fuck. Her touch sends my heart beating out of control and I meant to expose her, but end up being the one feeling exposed when Zayna looks up at me, filled with that strange curiosity again.

“You don’t touch me for sixteen days and now you’re all over me,” she says, her hand clearly applying pressure to my chest. Pushing me away. I don’t want that. I can’t…

“We have an agreement now.”

“What did I agree to?”

Thoughts of her pussy run through my head on a loop. Keeping my tongue away from her lips has been pure torture. But I had to think. What if Tamiya was right? I’m too racist. Too fucked up for Zayna. Killing won’t make it better. The news from Tamiya about her past makes my choice simple. Racist or not — I have to do what she commands, for the sake of what I feel and my own reckless ass heart.

Zayna’s hand against my chest makes me nervous. My turn to do some touching around here. I put my hands on her hips. My dick throbs.

“You agreed to a nice little tattoo, to tell me the names of the men you want me to kill and to give me a little bit of pussy.”

“You don’t want to know why I want them dead?”

“No.”

What I want to know is about the man she doesn’t want dead. That ex-boyfriend of hers. Sure, he didn’t attack her… but if she wants me to kill every man who did her wrong, why doesn’t she ask me to kill him?

“You confuse the hell out of me.”

My dick throbs. She is damn crazy for saying that to me. Then again, I challenge any man to name more than three women who aren’t crazy. That’s just the way of the world. Every woman has her own brand of crazy and you have to find the kind of crazy that you love.

“I can make it simple for you,” I tell her, my hands running over her hip bones as I touch the top of her ass cheeks. My dick is just about ready to explode. I am pent up. I needed to wait for her. To feel the pain of sleeping next to her half-naked body every night without giving in to my darkest urges to touch her. Tame her. Leave a puddle of my seed between her sexy dark brown legs.

Zayna’s expectant expression wraps me more tightly around her finger.

“I want you, but I know how you women get. Once you have a man hooked, all you want to do is run and have him chase you. But I don’t work like that. I want fidelity. I want something permanent.”

“I don’t think I ever want to be married,” Zayna says, her voice getting shockingly vulnerable. Like there’s some truth in there so fucking deep that she has to tell me – even if it might get in the way of what she wants.

“Then don’t think. Let me win your heart.”

“By murder?”

“Worked the first time.”

“You did not win my heart. You asked to have custody of me and everybody involved, including myself, was terrified about leaving you with a baby.”

“I would never hurt Eden.”

Her eyes flash nervously to mine. She wants assurance. I give it to her, holding firm, steady eye contact with Zayna.

“I will never hurt Eden. And I would never hurt any of ours either.”

“Ours?”

I kiss her on the lips. I shouldn’t take this too far. Her hands scrunch up the fabric of my shirt. Don’t push me away. She pulls me closer. It doesn’t feel real. But it’s happening. I move forward a step, forcing Zayna to sit up on the open cabin windowsill. I clutch her hips so tightly, that I must be leaving a mark. But I just need to kiss her.

I need to kiss a woman who doesn’t push me away. Her lips are so full. So soft. It’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. I love her lips. They feel so different against mine. So big and soft. Comforting. Everything about her body has this homespun warmth to it. I just want to bury my head between those sexy tits and fall asleep.

When I pull away from Zayna, she stares at my eyes. Every woman has the same reaction to my eyes – she doesn’t know if they make her want to fuck me or run away from me. Scary blue eyes. Zayna stares a lot, like she’s never seen eyes like mine. Gideon’s eyes are the same color. So are a few of the other Blackwoods who don’t have grey eyes instead. They aren’t that special in my family, but my eyes give her permission to focus on me.

And it’s exactly what I want from her right now.

“Tell me their names.”

She inhales slowly. “You could go to prison.”

“I won’t.”

She pushes at the boundaries of my loyalty to her. “They come from rich families.”

I nod slowly, because I know proving myself to her won’t come easily.

“Okay.”

“You don’t want to know why?” she asks again, even if I told her that I didn’t care. I already know what happened to her, but there is no need at all for that to come between us. Zayna the sweet teacher. I don’t need her to bring all that up.

“I trust you.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “You are damn crazy.”

“Yes. Now give me a name and I’ll do it.”

I run my thumb over her lips while she hesitates, hoping I can probe the response out of her physically, if she won’t spill the words with ease.

“I don’t think you will.”

“You can watch.”

“Ruger.”

My turn to smile. “You know I can get away with murder. Come on…”

“Men will do anything for sex.”

She wants to piss me off. I can tell.

“This is about far more than sex Zayna, and you know it. You give me a name, I give you a deal.”