Chapter 28: Chapter 28

CANNON

EASY PEASY, LEMON FUCKING SQUEEZY.

Except it wasn’t that easy, not by a long shot it wasn’t.

“In the army huh. My cousin was a seal of some sort, five years in the TEAMS and he came back as a nutjob”, Ted or Jake ( I couldn’t fucking tell them apart anyway) said and I swallowed his insinuation of ‘ all military men are fucking nuts’ with a small forced smile.

Try watching your pals blow into smithereens and then tell me how you would react after. We weren’t necessarily whack in the head but whatever shit we saw in the open field stayed imbued in us like a fucking drug.

So, to Ted’s statement, I simply looked him in the eye and fought the urge to ask him whether he had ever shot anything except his seed in his wife’s pussy. I wouldn’t be surprised if his kids weren’t his anyway. He looked like a bad shot. In fucking everything. I could bet my money on it.

“He was always a nutjob, Frank”, Billy said beside me handing me a mug of the shit liquor I had tried so hard to stay away from.

“Maybe he was, I couldn’t tell anyway”, Frank, Ted whatever the fuck he went by laughed dunking his mug as if we were in some chugging beer contest where the winner proved just how masculine he was.

“So Callan, what was it like in Iraq? You know shooting some fucking Arabs”, he asked, chortling as if that earned him some fucking brownie points or something.

I merely curled my lips with displeasure as I delved into my mug. Sam Adams, I hated such beer. Gimme vodka or scotch but this? And considering the fact that I was supposed to play nice and not pull out my gun on anyone? Damn gimme something fucking strong rather than this shit.

Fucking Arabs? Brad was a piece of scum for lack of better words at the moment. Arabs, Americans, Africans, they were all the same really. And to the illiterate buffoon who I would have rather whooped than educate, I didn’t kill Arabs for sport, only the bad ones who held other innocent Arabs as children.

God even repeating the word Arab over and over again left a bitter aftertaste in my mind. They were fucking people just like us.

His buddy Billy must have noticed my seething rage because he cut me off way before I could say ‘fuck playing nice to hell’ and really showed Brad just how good of a shot I was.

“Let the interrogation rest Frank. You are starting to sound like my wife Joey. All I want is a good drink with old friends and new… and some fucking meat”

“Meat you didn’t even season”, the forty-year-old who had been manning the grill like a sentinel said putting the tongs down unceremoniously.

“Seasoned not seasoned, no one will tell a difference”, Billy said.

“I will”, I said, my mug half empty.

For the most part of it I had steered away from talks about football, their women and kids and all the gossip that came with the lad who was here a few minutes ago, but when it came to the brisket, they had all been smoking poorly, damn me but I wasn’t sitting my ass down and eating unseasoned meat.

What were we? Fucking cavemen?

I might not have liked my old man but the Texan in me wouldn’t allow these punks to treat a good brisket like they did in Oklahoma.

“See, Callan gets it and it’s not a Texan thing but logic”, Benard said.

“More like manipulation”, Frank scoffed, “following your women all day has made you soft. Seasoned meat, changing your kids’ diapers while your wives are off to who knows where. Come on, we are the alphas, we hunted back in the days in the fucking wild not this”

The fact that he called himself an alpha while wearing hundred-dollar slacks told me that maybe the nutjob-ness ran in his family’s genes. Don’t forget the big ass glasses that screamed ‘clerk’.

“Alpha, right. Is that the reason why Tina is wearing that awful black dress? Because you run your household with an iron fist?”

They all gazed at the so-called Tina and I followed them like a chum.

Tina, wife of Frank Hanks. One word for her. Submissive.

And I liked submissives but she was on another level that pissed me way more. No doubt Franks treated her like that fucker LUCAS did with—

No, we were not going there. My eyes sneaked away from the honey blonde haired woman to the brunette that had me on choke hold.

She seemed happy, interacting with others and although I wanted to go home and put this shit barbeque behind me, I changed my mind.

As long as she was happy then that was good enough for me.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Women.

I was no sage when I said this but women had a fucking way with messing with our heads.

I didn’t fucking do anything and yet Nicole was one spit away from bludgeoning me with the salt shaker on the table.

I cut the meat into little chunks for Connor who was beside me downing the food like a hungry bear straight from hibernation.

Jr sat across Nicole who was to my right and I had merely held a chuckle when he pretended to throw up the minute his mom added arugula on his plate. He was my fucking son because I hated greens like I hated the glasses on Frank Hanks.

Shamelessly and not an iota of fear crossing my veins, I placed a hand on her thigh.

I knew her and damn me, I knew her fucking well to know when she was mad.

Because when she was mad, she bit her bottom lip now and then and refused to do the one thing that at least kept me strong while I tried to keep her at arm’s length.

She refused to make eye contact.

She hid her eyes from me, those fucking golden eyes with flecks of brown in them that made my heart do back flips.

And when she was mad, God, I hated her because in the end I hated myself for beating myself up on why and what I had done to make her mad.

I barely touched the fabric of her dress let alone the olive expanse of her skin when she pulled away from me like she was icked with me.

The table wobbled of course; I couldn’t give a fuck at most but the host noticed it.

“Everything okay?”

“of course,” Nicole replied quickly.

“I like the gravy”, Connor said with a grin and I ruffled his hair.

‘Thank you. It’s been a while since anyone enjoyed my food like this. Do you want more, Connor?”

“I think that’s enough for him tonight”, Nicole interjected sharply.

Connor dug into his food with slight disappointment as Abigail Arkinson flew a warm smile at me from across the table.

She was pretty but too God damn fake for me. And yet that had never stopped me, old me would have excused myself knowing full well Abigail would follow me and after? Well I would have gladly bent her over her kitchen counter and fucked her hard till my dick saw fucking stars.

But new me? The boys would have a thrill listening to the shit dominating my mind at this fucking second.

I wanted the woman next to me so bad I couldn’t have a sex dream with any other woman but her.

I couldn’t even fuck a woman properly because Nicole fucking Montenegro existed.

So while Abigail Arkinson threw hints all night that she wanted me between her thighs, the only thighs I wanted to be in were that of Nicole slash the woman I didn’t want to fuck again because I would lose all my fucking scruples again like last time slash the woman who didn’t want me touching her or me looking at her hence what I said earlier.

She was messing with my head than I fucking liked.

And I would have let that slide and packed the questions later when we got home but when I caught her staring at the ten-dollar smile guy who had introduced himself as the mayor before disappearing to the house, trying to play nice flew out the window.

“If you’ll excuse us”, I said my arm on Nicole.

For the first time since we sat down for this forbid dinner, Nicole stared at me…though it was more of a -what do you think you’re doing’ type of glare.

Trying not to create any sort of drama, she stood up and I never let go of her forearm as we entered Abigail’s home went past the living room to the kitchen.

“What do you think you are doing?” she snatched her hand away from me.

“What do you think you are fucking doing’, I exhaled and she threw me those eyes of hers when she was trying to bottle all emotions in and failing to do so at the same time.

“Me? I’m not the one who dragged me out of there like an angry caveman”

“Leonard Arkinson, what was that about?” I asked because I had seen it.

The smug the grey and dark tailored suit threw her was that of familiarity and I didn’t like the way she stared back at him too.

I wasn’t trying to imply anything or maybe it was the fact that fucking history was trying to repeat itself and I couldn’t handle it. She always had a type and her type was the billionaire type in suits that gave her everything.

I wasn’t like that. Fuck I hated suits.

She crossed her hands on her torso like a child,

‘It’s not your business, Callan. I made a friend so what, you clearly did”

I didn’t make a friend because I wasn’t interested in doing so and she fucking knew that.

“A friend? A friend doesn’t look at you like he wants to strip you naked and fuck you”

She laughed and I had ridden this rollercoaster with her to know enough that it was a mocking laugh.

“We are going to talk about fucking? Well, I’m not the one who’s been staring at Abigail Arkinson like I want her to suck my dick for half a fucking hour”

I loved it when she cussed, something about me influencing her made me feel proud. Abigail Arkinson had been throwing herself at me but I didn’t have time to entertain her nor I did I want to because I was fucking delirious with everything about Nicole, including the dress she was wearing at the moment.

“You’re not friends with that chum? Thank God”, I exhaled because truly thank the Almighty because the last thing I needed was another Lucas in her life.

“I hate you”, she yelled, throwing her hands against her hips.

I chuckled, “No, you don’t”

“I hate you because you feel entitled to see other women, encourage other women while I can’t? I know we are not together and maybe we will never be but I’m not going to stick around and wait for—“

A few strides and I was in front of her roping her tiny waist against my hands. I couldn’t resist staring at those full lips that had red lipstick smeared across them.

I couldn’t help getting lost in her perfume and those eyes.

God they must have had demonic powers or something. Add in her pussy too because there was nothing like it in the entire fucking continent.

“And wait for what?” I ran a finger at the smile line on her back, one hand on her ass.

I wouldn’t call it gently massaging her ass, more like groping and feeling its lusciousness while she whimpered in my arms and I fucking loved it.

“W—W—wait for you to—”

“To what Nicole”, this time I pulled the back of her right knee pulling it so much that her leg landed on the back of my thighs.

“To want me again”

Did she fucking hear herself? I wanted her, I fucking wanted her but we had issues to resolve. Issues like her running with my kids and her breaking my trust.

And I had to admit, it was bloody difficult staying away from her. Trying to convince myself that I had overcame a lot of things and she was just another challenge I could overcome too but how could I?

When she was this beautiful?

Before I could say anything, probably come up with some bullshit reason that would hurt her and stop me from fucking all to hell and fucking her in front of witnesses, her lips smashed mine.

We were moving, bumping into some things before her back collided with the wall.

Her lips hypnotic, her scent terrorizing my senses in a good way, I fisted her hair pulling her close to deepen the kiss, kissing her like there was no tomorrow or any fucking cure for whatever she did to me, I felt her hands skim down my abs underneath my shirt, I felt one hand sneak into my jeans and when she touched my stone hard---

She pulled away.

“I’m going to start working for Leonard Arkinson and before you say anything, I am not going to need your permission to do anything from now on. You made it clear the minute you touched Abigail’s ass that we are not together”, she pulled away from me completely straightening her dress, “so, husband, ready to play?”

Her heels clicked away and I was left with not only a heaving chest, anger seaming at my ends but with a really hard fucking boner that I had to get rid of before I went back in there and put a gun on the fucking mayor’s head.

Had I just been pussy whipped?

Sure fucking felt like it with me having blue balls and all.