In Jack's Arms (Fighting Connollys) (12 page)

He captured my mouth, muffling my cries of pleasure, and snapped his hips with incredible speed,

slamming his cock into me again and again. The unending waves of my climax stole my breath. I burned

with pleasure and grasped at Jack, holding on to his shoulders as he bent me in half and pounded into me.

"Jack!
Yes
!"

"Abby." He groaned my name and shook in my arms. With his cheek to mine, he jerked a few times and spilled his seed. The spreading heat soothed me and made me feel so intimately connected to him. There

was something comforting about the knowledge that this was something we had only ever shared with each

other. It felt intensely special.

When Jack finally sat up, he dragged me with him, hefting me up onto his lap with his thick shaft still

fully embedded within me. He cupped my nape and took his time kissing me. Tongues dueling, we were

perfectly content and relaxed. Only the knowledge that we were in the locker room at his gym spurred us to make ourselves presentable again.

Jack grabbed his soap and towels from his locker and tugged me into one of the shower stalls. He

wasn't about to pass up the chance to get his hands back on my naked body, and after years of fantasizing

about having Jack Connolly doing just that, I wasn't about to stop him. Consumed by his kisses and gentle

petting, I leaned into him and silently hoped that all of our disagreements ended this way.

"What time does Mattie get back from the game with Detective Santos?" Jack asked as we got dressed.

"It will be late." I shimmied back into the black workout capris. "Probably close to midnight. Why?"

"I wanted to know if we needed to hurry home or not," Jack said, shrugging into his shirt. "You want to grab some dinner?"

"Dressed like this?" I motioned to my gym wear. "No, thanks."

"We could hit up a drive-thru," he offered. "I don't feel like cooking tonight, and I'm sure you don't either."

"Not particularly," I agreed and glanced around the locker room. "Shit."

"What?"

"I dropped my bag when you picked me up. I was so pissed at you that I didn't even think to go back

and get it. My wallet and everything is out there."

"I'm sure Finn spotted it after he ended the class. He probably stowed it in the office."

My face flamed at the idea of seeing Finn or my classmates again. "I don't think I'll come back to class ever again."

"Why?" Jack asked with a laugh. "Because we made love in a locker room?" He pulled me close and kissed away my embarrassment. "This is my gym. We didn't inconvenience anyone. The only other man

who might have needed to use the locker room is Finn—and I'd like to see him lodge a complaint."

"Still," I said, patting his chest. "We can't do this again. It's unprofessional. It could put you at risk."

"For?"

"A lawsuit? Bad press? People are crazy, Jack. If they can sue over hot coffee, they can sue over being subjected to the sounds of us going at it in here like a couple of horny teenagers."

He grunted and pecked my cheek. "Fine. But—at least you let me cross this off my bucket list."

"Oh?"

"Yep.
Locker Room Fantasy with Abby Kirkwood
." He made a swiping motion. "Check."

"I'm almost afraid to ask what else might be on that list."

"You'll find out soon enough." Jack gave my backside a swat that left me tingling. "Put on your shoes.

We'll grab your bag, shut down the gym and get out of here."

When we stepped out of the locker room, Jack had to practically drag me along behind him. He gave

my hand a squeeze and shot me a look that said he wouldn't let anyone say a word about what we had

done. He bolstered my courage, but I was secretly relieved that the gym was totally empty except for Finn

who was wiping down equipment.

"Your bag is over there." The middle Connolly brother pointed to a nearby bench. "You might want to be more careful when you're carrying around expensive equipment like that, Abby."

I frowned at his comment. "My cell phone?"

Finn glanced up from his work. "No, that video camera."

"Video camera?" Confused, I walked over the bench and unzipped my bag. There, nestled in between my workout clothes and towel, was a video camera I had never before seen. "This isn't mine."

"It fell out of your bag when I picked it up." Finn spritzed another bench and began to wipe away the lemony cleanser. "I assumed it was yours."

"Maybe Mattie stuck it in there?" Jack suggested as he peered over my shoulder. "He brought me Pop's watch the other day. Maybe this belongs to some other customer he likes and wanted to help. Where do you

keep your gym bag?"

"In my office."

"So he would have had easy access," Jack said. "Is there a barcode?"

I flipped the camera over and spotted one on the edge. "Here." My stomach flip-flopped. "And it's smudged."

Jack exhaled roughly. "It's another one of Dan's pieces."

"Yes. These things are like bad pennies! I can't get rid of them."

"Do I even want to know?" Finn asked as he came to stand next to Jack.

Because the word would be out soon enough, I explained, "Dan was fencing stolen property in the shop

that he bought from Flea. He said he needed money."

"I'm not surprised. That kid of his has a nasty habit."

Surprised by Finn's remark, I glanced up at him. "What sort of habit?"

"Coke. The kid was with Flea a couple of weeks ago. One of those nights where I let Flea come in and

get a shower and have a hot meal," he added. "I could tell right away that the kid was blitzed out of his mind on cocaine. I tried to get him to come to a meeting but he wasn't ready. Last I heard from Flea, the kid was in some deep shit over some weight he had been moving on campus."

"Are you serious?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Dan's son is dealing drugs at college?"

"He was," Finn confirmed. "The trouble isn't the legal kind either. Flea said that the kid owed a lot of money to Lalo Contreras."

I swore softly. "He's tied in with one of those Mexican cartels, right?"

"Big time," Finn said. "So if Dan was trying to make money on the side in your shop, it was probably to clear away that debt."

"I would have given him the money. All he had to do was tell me how serious this was, and I would

have given him whatever he needed." That was the part that hurt the most. Dan hadn't trusted me to help him. After all the years we had known each other, he hadn't believed in me.

"Turn it on." Jack issued his order and tapped at the camera. "Let's see what's on this."

"Why?"

"Because someone broke into your store the other night and took every single camera except for this

one," Jack said. "What if this is the one they really wanted?"

I pushed the switch on the small device and shifted it so that both of the Connolly brothers could see

the screen. There was only one thumbnail on the device so I clicked on it and waited for the video to load.

At first, the light was so bright I couldn’t make out the scene. The camera angle shifted quickly, and a man's naked chest was the only thing that could be seen.

When the man in the video moved back a little, the camera's focus automatically zeroed in and cleared

up the image. A massive and ornate tattoo of an Aztec warrior had been inked on his sternum. It was the

type of art I sometimes saw on the Latin street gangs around town. The other tattoos on his belly and chest told me the guy had seen a lot of prison time. A piece that looked like the Mexican sugar skulls sold around Halloween caught my eye. It was similar to the logo worn by one of the vicious outlaw motorcycle gangs

that operated in the area. The same motorcycle club that Marley's stepdad served as vice president…

The man stepped to the side and disappeared from the shot. A big bed waited for him. I quickly picked

up the fact that this was a sex tape. He called out to his lady in Spanish, urging her to hurry up and join him in their romp.

"Um…" I reached up to end the film, but Jack gently clasped my wrist.

"Leave it for a few more seconds."

"Perv," I groused softly.

He just snorted with amusement and kissed the top of my head. "I didn't hear you complaining in that

locker room."

Now it was Finn who snorted with laughter. "No, but we all heard the enthusiasm."

I wanted to die, but Finn flicked my earring in a good-natured and teasing way. I started to understand

that this was the sort of ribbing I could expect in the future. If Jack had his way, I would be hanging around with the Connolly family for a long, long time.

On camera, a scantily clad woman bounded into the shot. She was a pretty younger woman, younger

than me even, with white-blonde hair and skin with a fake tan so new it was still on the orange end of the spectrum. Her choice of makeup styles screamed porn star or some other sex work with the deep, smoky

eye shadow and thick, wet lips. Her eyebrows had been plucked thin and traced with a dark brow pencil.

The younger woman squealed with delight as the Aztec warrior tossed her down on the bed and

climbed on top of her. She wrapped her thighs around the older man's waist as he ripped her clothing,

leaving her naked and breathless.

"
Ay, papi
," she said in an exaggerated voice as he kissed his way down her body.

The Aztec warrior laughed, his voice husky and thick and the sort I would expect from a pack-a-day

smoker. He started talking dirty to her in Spanish, the filthy phrases making the very tips of my ears go hot.

I didn't know how much more of all this naughty foreplay I could watch with my lover and his brother only

inches behind me. It felt intensely wrong and inappropriate.

But, before I could switch off the camera, I noticed the bedroom door, only barely visible in the mirror

hanging next to the bed, swing silently open. Like some sort of slow motion horror film, I watched as a

masked and gloved man dressed in black from head to toe crept into the room totally unnoticed by the

amorous couple on the bed.

I gasped when he stretched a long, thin wire between his hands. With my brain refusing to compute

what my eyes were seeing, I stared on in utter shock and horror as the assassin caught the Aztec warrior by surprise and wrapped the wire around his throat. With one quick and clean jerk, he garroted the tattooed

man. Slapping and gagging and choking, the Aztec warrior fought valiantly, but the assassin was too

skilled.

The terrified woman shrieked and tried to claw her way off the bed as the killer dropped her lover to

the ground like a sack of rocks. The assassin snatched her ankle and dragged her to the edge of the bed. I didn't think I would ever forget the screeching sounds she made as the man put a knee in the center of her back, pushing her down against the mattress, and slipped the garroting wire around her throat. Squeezing

and tugging, the killer choked the life right out of her, leaving her limp and dangling over the edge of the bed.

Stunned speechless by what we had just witnessed, the three of us watched the screen, unable to move

and hardly able to breathe. The assassin left the room and returned with a heavy black bag that he placed on the bed. He began to set out the tools of his trade—tarps, jugs of bleach, paper towels, trash bags. When he retrieved a saw, I thought I would be sick. I handed over the camera to Jack, my fingers shaking and my

stomach lurching. Just before I stepped away from the camera, the assassin on the screen peeled off his

mask and revealed his face to us as he answered a call.

"Yes? It's done."

And then I understood what the break-in was about. This man—this killer—had missed a crucial piece

of evidence. "Was it a hit?"

"Yes." Jack's voice was tight, strained. "A victim with those kinds of tattoos? A killer with that type of kit? This was professional. It was expensive."

"It's cartel business," Finn said knowingly. "That Aztec had the skull tattoo of the outlaw motorcycle crew that runs guns for Romero Valero out of Mexico. Who the hell would be ballsy enough to order a hit

on one of his men? Someone very powerful. Someone incredibly motivated to keep it quiet." Finn combed his fingers through his hair. "This is
bad
, Jack. Really fucking bad."

The full reality of our dangerous situation hit me like a big rig truck. This was a world I knew virtually nothing about, and it was a world that could get me, Mattie, Finn or Jack killed. There was only one man in the entire world that could advise me in a situation like this.

Certain Jack was going to flip his fucking lid, I mustered my courage and stated the obvious. "We need Besian's help."

Chapter Seven

Of all the things Jack had expected Abby to say after witnessing a brutal hit, the Albanian mob boss'

name wasn't one of them.

"No." Jack shut the video screen and switched off the power. "He's not the type of man you go to for help."

"Ordinarily, I would agree with you," she said, "but this is an
extraordinary
circumstance." She pointed to the camera and then the three of them. "We've just seen a hit between rival cartels or gangs. That's out of our league, Jack. That's not our world. We need someone who knows the score." She gulped and hugged

herself. "We need someone powerful to protect us."

"We could go to the police." Even as he said it, Jack knew it was a non-starter. There were certain things even the police couldn't do and protecting them from a ruthless hitman was one of them.

"No way!" Abby's hand cut through the air. "Do you remember that awful car chase in January? When that guy who was in protective custody with the US Marshals was murdered by Romero Valero? If the Feds

couldn’t keep someone safe from him then, why would I trust them now? Why would I trust them to keep