Club Justice (5 page)

His dark thoughts lent desperation to his need, making his advances even more aggressive than usual. A bruising knee between her thighs forced them apart. Impatient fingers sought out her snug tunnel, shoving dry into her until her natural moisture eased the way. A feral snarl twisted his features as the rough pad of his thumb on her clit drew a panting scream. Pressing her knees up and apart, Zeke drove into her with an animalistic savagery. His thrusts were hard and frantic. It was a claiming with little regard for either’s comfort or pleasure. Biting her bottom lip against the keening cries that tore at the back of her throat, she submitted to the amorous assault, opening heart and body to his need.  

Zeke’s growl built, bursting in a guttural bellow of completion, his body jerking over hers, eyes clamped tight in carnal bliss. Crushing her into the mattress, he settled down over her. His lips captured hers with bruising intensity, teeth clashing with the violence of his passion. Ginny brought her hands up to cup his face, seeking to ease the pressure. Her heart thundered as his hand swept up, capturing her wrists and slamming them to the bed over her head in a punishing hold. His eyes glittered in the gloom. He ground his hips, breath coming in harsh grunts. The accompanying short thrusts drove him deeper.

The overwhelming fullness combined with the grind of his pelvic bone against her clit drew a continuous scream from Ginny’s raw throat as she writhed helpless underneath him. Excruciating pleasure ripped through her ravaged body until the welcome blanket of darkness claimed her.  

The feather light caress of his lips on the shell of her ear, the abrading tickle of his goatee, the humid pant of his breath against the side of her neck, the scent of leather and warm alpha male so uniquely Zeke, these things flooded her senses as she fought up through the haze of darkness.

“Welcome back, baby,” he mumbled against her ear with a chuckle.

“Smug bastard.”

The breathless whisper of her voice robbed the comment of any sting. She stifled a yawn into his shoulder; her lush lashes fluttering over the sharp plains of her cheekbones. Zeke gathered her to his chest. Stroking hair from her face, he kissed the top of her head, breathing in her scent. The even keel of her breathing soothed him. He had some decisions to make. Lost in thought, the sun’s first rays were peeking over the trees before he joined her in sleep. 

Chapter Four

Lulled by the drone of his secretary’s litany of forms and reports, Donovan nearly missed the word retirement. Pausing mid scrawl, he nudged her hand aside to read the top of the paper in front of him. Zeke Garrett Brawer glared back at him in bold print. Flipping through the packet, he set it aside and finished signing the remainder before handing them over.

“Thank you, Lou.”

The saucy secretary pursed her lips for a moment, her eyes darting to the retirement papers still lying on the desk.

“Let Detective Brawer know I need to see him on your way out, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

She still hesitated, giving the paperwork a pointed look.

“Yes, Lou. I realize they’re time sensitive and will have them in your capable hands by shifts end,” he promised with a sigh.

Giving the open door a rap of his knuckles, Zeke waited for the nodding acknowledgement from Donovan before entering.

“Close the door, please.” 

Latching the door behind him, Zeke dropped into one of the chairs in front of the desk and waited.

“Have a seat,” Donovan muttered sarcastically. When Zeke didn’t rise to the bait, he got down to business. “When were you going to tell me?”

“You didn’t need me to tell you.”

“A bit of professional courtesy or a friendly heads up is too much to ask for I take it.”

“I decided during my bereavement and talked to H.R. this morning. I guess they were eager to get the ball rolling.” 

“What’s going through your head?”

“Hopefully not a forty-five caliber round like my partner.”

“That’s not even funny, Brawer.”

“I didn’t see much humor in it either, Cap. I wasn’t shits and giggles thrilled about being asked for an alibi while comforting my partner’s widow either.”

“That was Internal Affairs. Kramer was out of line. You know the department stands with you.”

Zeke gave a mirthless snort.  

“Do I?” he asked, turning to wave a hand at the bustling squad room. “Who out there has my back? Which one of those men or women would you trust with your life, without question? Other than McElroy there isn’t a one left that I’d trust to take a bullet for me.”

“Take some more time off. I know how hard it is to lose a partner. Right now it doesn’t feel like any one will ever take Jimmy’s …”

“Shut the fuck up!” Zeke snarled, lunging to his feet. Leaning across the desk, his huge forefinger jabbed perilously close to Donovan‘s face. “Don’t you sit there and psychoanalyze me. Don’t tell me that you know what I am going through or that it will pass with time. I don’t want to hear your party line platitudes. You’ve been behind that desk so long you’ve forgotten the code on the street. Most of them never knew it and don’t give a shit!” he hissed, flinging an arm toward the squad room again. He raked an agitated hand through his silvering flat-top and blew out his breath. Suddenly looking old and tired, he turned to the door. “Sign the papers. I’m done.”

Duffle over his shoulder and a half-empty copy paper box in his hands, Zeke made his way down to the parking garage. The odd assortment of snap shots, pens, a nameplate and a couple coffee mugs didn’t seem like much for twenty plus years. Hitting the automatic lock on his key ring, he opened the Durango’s hatch. Dropping the duffle with the contents of his locker, he set the box in beside it. A nice dual frame on top caught his eye and he picked it up, wiping at the accumulated dust. One side held a picture of him and Ginny with his Harley. The other was a family shot someone had snapped at The Lantern. 

“That’s a hot looking wife you have there, Brawer. Bet you aren’t looking forward to going home and telling her you lost your job,” Kramer taunted.

Swallowing his irritation, Zeke turned with a half-smile.

“I didn’t lose the job, Kramer. I tired of the futility of working with cops like you, and retired.”  

“Women like that don’t stay around long when the money train dries up.”

“I appreciate your concern for my sex life and finances, but I have them both covered.”

“Mrs. Lombardi mentioned that you seemed to do well financially. What with two teenage sons, a four bedroom home, a pool, the pub, nice cars, a mother-in-law in a nursing home…I would take a second look as well.”

“Damn, there goes the account in the Caymans,” Zeke muttered, closing the hatch. “And you forgot to mention my hot looking wife in that sentence.”

“You surprise me. I would’ve never pegged you as the tuck tail and run type.”

“Between the Marines and here, I got the years in. My partner is gone. I have no desire to be saddled with some rent-a-cop want to be like yourself…now seemed the time.”

“As usual, you have a glib answer for everything, Brawer. One of these days your answers are just not going to jive,” Kramer hissed, stepping in a little too close.

“And one of these days, Kramer, you are going to push me too far, and I’m going to smash you like the annoying little pissant you are.”

“Is that a threat, Detective Brawer?”

Turning to the Durango, Zeke laid a meaty shoulder into the slighter built man, sending him staggering.

“As much as I hate clichés, you just walk into them. Keep running your lips, and it might just be today. That’s a promise in case you’re wondering.”

Glancing in the direction of The Lantern as he cruised through downtown Trinity, Zeke spied several of the guy’s bikes and Ginny’s Charger. The popular bar and grill had been a town landmark for as long as he could remember. He and Ginny had lived in an apartment above it for a couple years after they were married, until Rhys getting older had necessitated a bigger place. After the old couple that had owned it passed away it had changed hands two or three times, falling into disrepair. He and Ginny had bought and renovated it seven years ago. Business was good. 

Checking his rearview, he pulled a U-turn and parked behind the black Charger. Strolling inside, he offered a grin and a nod to friends and neighbors greeting him. Sambo saluted him with a twirling towel and a respectful nod from behind the bar. Reaper stood to give him a thump on the back. As he settled on a stool, Sambo set a cold one in front of him.

“Ginny back there?” he asked raising his chin towards the kitchen.

“Bambi called off again,” Sambo answered with a nod.

“I called Lee and told her to shake her ass over here when she gets off work,” Reaper added.

“Thanks,” Zeke mumbled, catching his wife’s eye as she came through the swinging doors, a tray on her upraised palm. He stole a kiss as she came around the bar. A grope of her ass earned him an exasperated look, but it didn’t camouflage the sparkle in her hazel eyes as she served their customers.   

“Now…, hello there handsome. What can I get you?” Ginny asked coming back.

“How about a hot woman with a bit of sass?” Zeke suggested with an eyebrow waggle.

“This is your lucky day, cowboy,” Ginny purred, slipping into his lap for a kiss.

Their steamy play brought a raucous cheer from The Lantern’s early afternoon patrons.

“Do you give an AARP discount in this joint?” Zeke teased, drawing a laugh from his wife and those around them, as well as several slaps on the back in congratulations.

“I left you unsatisfied?”

“Never that, baby, but a man can’t live on sex alone, despite popular belief and fervent prayer.”

Snapping her husband with a towel, Ginny shook her head in amused dismay at those encouraging him.

“What would you like, babe?”

“A house burger basket should hold me over until dinner service.”

“Only you would make a snack out of a pound of black angus and a couple potatoes,” Ginny snorted with an eye roll.

“I’m a growing boy.”

“And if I don’t keep you well exercised now that you have retired, you will be growing round.”

“Ride me hard and put me away wet, baby,” Zeke grinned, stepping off to shoot some pool with Crux.

“If some of the club is interested in making a bit of extra cash, I talked to Walker today and he’s looking for some serious muscle to work security at this summer’s concert series. After the fiasco at the finale, he’s willing to up the pay to be competitive.”

Zeke grimaced, lining up his next shot. They had worked a few shows the previous season for the hotshot promoter. While he had a talent for booking, he had a lot to learn about dealing with crowds and security.

“Find out how many he needs, get a schedule, and we can see who’s available.”

Crux smiled into his beer, reading between the lines.

“Not so willing to sign up for them screaming skin heads again, eh?”

Zeke shook his head. Rock, alternative, and even a bit of main stream country he could handle, but the screeching death metal shit set his teeth on edge.

“Reaper doesn’t mind the shit. We’ll send him with Rhys, Mox,…and whoever else can stomach it or is desperate for some cash at the time.” 

“Can I go?”

“Depends on the show, bud,” Zeke answered ruffling Garrett’s already mussed blond hair in greeting.

“I would stay with Rhys and Mox.”

“I know you would, or I’d kick your ass. That isn’t the question.”

“Then why can’t I go?”

Zeke reined in his temper at his thirteen-year-old’s bulldog persistence.  

“And don’t say because you said so. That isn’t an answer.”

The muscles in Zeke’s jaw tightened and Ginny moved out from behind the bar. He shot her a silent look of warning before turning his attention back to his youngest.   

“Let’s get one thing straight, boy. Until the day you can take me…because I said so, is all the damn reason you need.”

Icy shards of blue clashed as father and son stared one another down. Garrett’s gaze dropped first and Ginny let her breath out.

“Yes, sir,” Garrett mumbled grudgingly.

Tension hummed between them. Mother and wife pressed an anxious knuckle against her upper lip as she waited.

Though still prickling with resentment, Garrett wisely kept his head down and mouth shut. His posture subconsciously acknowledged submission and when the toe of his sneaker started to twist in uncertainty…Zeke relented.

“First off, it hasn’t been decided if or when Rhys and Mox are going anywhere. Secondly, you butted into a conversation that was business and none of yours. Lastly, you get belligerent with me again, and I’ll take a belt to you. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Making sure it had sunk in; Zeke gave it another moment and then gave a releasing jerk of his head.

“Go on.”

Garrett fled into the kitchen, and Zeke turned to chalk his cue stick. He suppressed a grin as Ginny pressed against him in silent thanks before heading back to work. His badass broad was a ferocious mommy and he loved her for it.

Ginny blew out her breath in exasperation as she dropped into a booth beside Kat.

“That was a close call,” her friend acknowledged, offering her a cigarette.

“I owe my husband big time for letting our stupid kid live! What got into him?” Ginny snapped.

Kat snorted in amusement.

“He’s his father’s son?”

“They’re too damn much alike.”

“Give it a couple more years.”

“Jesus,” Ginny muttered, tilting her head back to blow out a plume of smoke. “Is that supposed to be helpful? And why do you give me these things?”

“What’re best friends for? Besides, I hate to be addicted alone,” Kat shrugged with a laugh as she caught the Marlboros Ginny threw back at her. 

“Zeke will bust my ass if he catches me.”

“Your husband smokes a case of cigars a week.”

“You’re just figuring out there is a double standard?”

“Tell him …”

“Careful. I don’t hear you standing up to Crux,” Ginny interrupted with a challenging eyebrow quirk.