Page 20 of Great White
“Hey.” Tate grabs for me, but I brush him off.
As I walk to the edge of the stairs, she proceeds to float down half of them. We eye each other. Moments later, I feel Tate’s warmth behind me as a man appears out of the jet behind her. He’s older than her, by twenty years, at least, but his possessive energy doesn’t go unnoticed. She belongs to him whether she wants to or not. I feel a pang of sorrow for her. No one will ever own me. Never again.
“You have the stuff?” The man gets straight down to business.
“You got the money?”
Why waste time with small talk?
“Stevie.” He snaps his fingers, and the striking woman in front of me reaches into her back pocket. Both Tate and I tense, as if we both anticipate the worst. He brushes up against me, his protective energy as potent as the nefarious man who’s looking down on us like a wicked god.
She taps her phone several times. Moments later, Tate’s phone dings in his pocket. He reaches to retrieve it, and I feel every movement he makes. My heart beats three times faster from the mix of stress and the startling desire he suddenly evokes.
“It’s Stefania. She says all good.” Tate speaks close to my ear. Stevie, the woman whose name I now know, observes our exchange with probing curiosity. I can almost feel her gaze jabbing me in the rib cage.
What does she find so fascinating?
“So, are we good or what?” the man barks. “I want to get back in the fucking air. This humidity is killer.”
“We’re good.” I nod.
“Fantastic. Stevie, wrap things up.” With that, he disappears back into the jet and two more men emerge. Big ones. As they descend the stairs, I catch a glimpse at one of their necks. There is a huge scar that looks like charred skin. Tate and I exchange a quick glance before heading to the back of the truck. Tate pops the trunk, then pulls the floor mat up. He opens the spare tire hatch where there is, in fact, a spare tire. Well, half a spare tire. When he lifts the black rubber, he reveals the underside has been cut off, and in its place several duffle bags full of “flour” have been stuffed.
“All for you.” Tate lets them do the honors.
It takes them one trip, layering the duffle bags on both of their muscled arms as if they were carrying baskets of flowers, not bags of bricks.
“Nice doin’ business with ya.” Stevie gives us a wave like we just engaged in an amicable business transaction.
Whatever works.
Tate and I waste no time getting out of there. It’s unnerving for even the most fearless criminal to do dealings with people they don’t know.
“Was that guy freaking scary or what? I wish I knew who he was.” Tate comments.
“The less you know, the better.”
“How am I supposed to integrate if you won’t tell me anything? Am I really just arm candy with a gun? 'Cause if I am, you’re wasting my time.”
“First of all, I don’t even know who that was. Stefania doesn't tell me everything, and I get that. It protects her. And yes, presently, you are just arm candy with a gun. You don’t like it, I can drop you on the side of the road right now. No one will miss you.”
“Liar,” he contests. “I think you secretly like me and just won’t admit it. I woke up with you cozy on my chest.” Tate flashes me a shit-eating grin.
If that was not one of the worst moments of my life, I don’t know what was. I woke up wrapped in Tate’s arms. He was so smug when I realized what had happened, I almost punched him.
“Don’t fool yourself. The air conditioning was on sixty. My body was unconsciously looking for heat.”
“You’re the one fooling yourself, darlin’ You want me, just admit it.”
“I want to cut your tongue out so you stop talking,” I hum sinisterly.
“You’d regret it. This tongue conjures magic wherever it ventures.” He’s lewd.
“For Christ’s sake, just shut up and drive.”
“Fine with me.” Tate cranks the radio, and a surprisingly suggestive country song blasts through the speakers. I try to ignore Tate as he sings about stripping down and uncovering what makes the world go round.
I stare straight out the window, trying not to imagine exactly what kind of illicit magic he can conjure with that indecent tongue. And how much both of us would enjoy that path of discovery.
