Cash (The Henchmen MC 2)

“Shooter. Used to work for Breaker. He's a friend. He gets word of this, he'll be all over it.”

“You're sure you trust him? I haven't really done any work with him or Breaker. I know the jobs they pull, but personally...”

“I'll bring him in,” I shrugged easily. “You talk to him, get a feel for him. You don't like him, we call in one of your guys. But, babe, he's the best fucking shot I've ever seen. If there's anyone who can clock him and take him out without Damian getting a scent of him, it's Shoot.”

She nodded, no doubt having heard the stories of the insane, impossible shots Shooter had pulled off. “Call him in,” she agreed, moving to stand up. She reached inside the nightstand and pulled out a necklace. At my curious look, she shrugged. “My mother's.”

I gave her a small smile, knowing her mother wasn't even much of a memory to her, but losing mine young, I knew that kind of wound. It was a kind of hollow inside that never felt filled. “You ready to head back, babe?”

“Everything hurts,” she admitted, leaning her forehead into my chest.

My hands moved up and down her arms, wishing I could wrap them around her. “Then let's go get you all drugged up.”

“Know what I was thinking?” she asked, following me up the steps.

“What?”

“That maybe I could use that... alternative cure for pain you introduced me to.”

I turned back, my cock twitching to life at the thought. “This time you let me eat you, though,” I said and she let out a surprised yelping laugh. “Been too long since I tasted you. Got a taste for that cunt, baby.”

“Okay shut up,” she said, stopping for a second on the step below me and I realized she was pressing her thighs together.

“Like that idea huh?” I teased, taking her hand and pulling her up the last step.

“Cash...” she said, looking downward, pushing against my chest.

“You're all wet thinking about my tongue sliding up your wet slit, teasing over your clit until it's throbbing then sucking on it 'till you come hard, screaming out my name.”

“Shut up and get me back to Hailstorm.”

I shut up, then I got her back to Hailstorm, made Mike check out her back, then I fucking delivered on my promise.–Later, Lo asleep on her stomach, flat on the bed, zonked from a handful of pills Mike had tossed at her an hour before, I moved into the bathroom and pulled out my cell.

The call rang and went to message, as I expected to, as it always did with professionals. His voice said simply, “Shoot,” then the beep for the message chimed.

“It's Cash,” I said simply then hung up.

I didn't call him often. Hell, I think the only time I ever actually did call him was one night when we were all drinking at Chaz's and one of the guys from the club went home with a chick who ended up having a dick and that shit was too fucking funny not to pass on.

I waited, five, ten minutes before my phone started vibrating in my hand. “Yo,” I said as greeting.

“You're just full of pleasantries tonight, huh?” he asked back, his voice teasing, sarcastic, as it almost always was.

“Where the fuck you at, man?”

“What?” he asked and, if I wasn't mistaken and I fucking wasn't, there was a guarded sound in his tone that I had never heard there before.

“All hell breaks loose around here and I hear you are off on some road trip with Breaker and some chick.”

“Winter, man,” he said, sounding lighthearted again. “Fucking miserable, coming on fast. We wanted a change of pace.”

Fuck. He was still out of town.

“Please tell me you aren't off in the Canary Islands somewhere.”

“Fuckin' wish,” Shoot laughed. “Mexico, man. Place is a hellhole right now, but fuck there are some ripe, lush ladies down here.”

I laughed, surprised when it felt like it had been forever since skirt-chasing seemed like my top priority. “You set on staying there?”

“Why? What's up?”

“Got a job.”

“What kind of job?”

“Your kind of job. Need someone who is air and can hit a target from as far as possible.”

There was a short pause. “What'd you get yourself into that your brothers can't get you out of, man?”

“Ain't my shit. It's Lo's shit. And since she belongs to me, it's by proxy... my shit and I want it handled by someone I trust.”

“Lo? As in... Hailstorm?” he repeated and I heard surprise in his voice.

“That'd be her.”

Another pause, followed by a low whistle. “Fuck, man. That's some grade-A pussy. Best tits I've ever seen...”

“And you ain't even seen 'em,” I added with a smile.

“Lucky fuck,” he added and I could practically see him smiling. “So you're like... with her?” he asked, his tone similar to how mine would have been a week or so back if he came up and told me he got himself shacked up with some chick. That wasn't what we did. We partied, drank, fucked. We took life as it came and we took it easy, no strings, no stress.

“First Shane, then Reign, then Breaker, now you... who the fuck am I gonna skirt-chase with when I get the fuck back there?” he laughed.

“I think Repo's got a few years left in him,” I mused.

“Christ,” he laughed.

“What?”

“Man, he's like eight years younger than me. Can't have young bloods as my competition.”

I rubbed a hand up the side of my head. “Guess we're getting a little old for that shit, huh?”

“Speak for yourself, Cash. How is Repo gonna handle all of these hunnies by himself? I have to do my part... for womankind.” He paused. “I'll talk to Break and see if I can get a plane into the city tomorrow then I'll rent a car and drive back. Meet day after tomorrow?”

“Sounds good. Hailstorm?”

“With bells on,” he agreed and disconnected.Twenty-fiveLo“Sugar, honey, darlin',” were the first words Shooter mysterious-no-last-name said to me as he stood at the gates sliding open, “you sure you want to be with this guy? You can do so much better.”