Page 37 of Killer (Savages 2)


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"You got a cat?" Paine asked, either oblivious to the tension in the room or completely ignoring it. My money was on the latter.

Johnnie wasn't listening though as he pushed off the counter and moved slowly toward us. "Baby, what are you doing here? And why is that look on your face?"

"What look?" I asked, knowing he saw right through me, but feeling uncomfortable talking in front of Paine.

"Hey man, take a hike," he said to his friend.

"No 'thank you for delivering the shaking-she's-so-scared girl off at my apartment like she asked'?"

"I'm not shaking!" I objected immediately.

"Honey, you are," Johnnie corrected, his voice low and soft.

Paine's hand landed soft on my hip again and I twisted my neck to look at him. "You alright with me leavin'?"

Oh, good lord. Not only were they all hot and charming, but they had that protective thing going for them too. "I'll be fine," I said, nodding. "Thanks for bringing me here."

He gave me a small wink, then cast some look that communicated something I couldn't interpret at Johnnie, then turned and left.

A few seconds passed before Johnnie moved. And I mean he moved, closing the distance between us and wrapping me up in his arms. If I was sure I wasn't shaking before, well, I was positive I was shaking the second his arms went around me. It felt like the past day of stress plowed into me at once, overwhelming my already shot nerves. "Shh, baby, it's alright," he murmured into my hair, his hands moving to stroke up and down my spine, the pace slow and comforting as my arms hesitantly moved to wrap around him, my hands resting on the warm skin of his back. We stayed that way for a long moment, him stroking me, me holding on and trying to deep breathe. "What happened, sweetheart?" he asked finally, moving his hands to my shoulders and trying to push me back so he could look at me. But suddenly, my arms were vice grips around him.

"Who is Luis?" I asked against his chest.

Against me, his body tightened. "You're this freaked 'cause you're worried about your boyfriend's murky past?"

At the words and the tone in which he said them, which were so unlike the Johnnie I thought I had started to understand, that I straightened and pulled away. "He's not my boyfriend," I snapped, wrenching away from him. "And I couldn't have cared less about his past. Except I have half a million dollars worth of heroin stashed in my wall and I'm pretty sure he's the one who put it there!" I was almost yelling as I paced around his living room.

Then suddenly my shoulders were tagged by two strong hands and my head snapped up to find Johnnie's eyes on mine, a wild fire behind them but his voice was almost freakishly calm when he spoke. "Amelia, I'm going to need to hear that from the start, okay?" When I didn't immediately move to speak, his hands moved from my shoulders and cradled my face. "Right now, sweetheart."

I swallowed hard and gave it to him. "The day after you left, Luis showed up at my apartment with wine, didn't seem to want to take no for an answer so I let him in for a drink. We were in my living room and he made a comment about me redecorating because there were scuff marks under my TV cabinet. I shrugged it off but I was already starting to freak out because I never moved that cabinet. Never. It's like... really heavy and I didn't want to get scuff marks on the floor so I knew that I wouldn't..."

"Focus, honey."

"Right," I said, shaking my head, finding his strange calmness really comforting and my frazzled thoughts were getting clearer. "He left and I went over and moved the cabinet and found a cut-out in my drywall so I pulled it open and..." I shook my head, letting out a breath. "There's eight kilos of heroin in my wall, Johnnie."

"Mother fucker. Mother fucker," he growled, moving away from me and raking a hand through his hair. "That shifty fucking son of a bitch..."

"Johnnie... how do you know Luis?"

He exhaled a breath and didn't even pause in informing me, "I did a contract for him a couple years back."

"A contract?"

"I shot someone for him, Amelia," he said, no shame or discomfort in his voice which, in turn, lessened mine slightly.

"Who?"

He shrugged a shoulder and I totally didn't watch the way his tattoos danced or anything. "H dealer in Miami."

An H dealer in Miami. Another piece clicked into place. Luis had mentioned being in Miami for "business". So he had Johnnie kill the guy and, what, stole his supply? Good god.

"Baby, look at me." I did what I was told. "What did you do when you found the drugs? Did you touch them? Move them?"

"I'm not stupid," I said, running a hand through my hair. "I didn't touch anything but the piece of the wall I pulled out and I even wiped that after I realized what was in there. And then I put the cabinet back in place and cleaned the floor of the scuff marks and then..."

"And then?" he prompted.

"And then I came right to you," I said honestly. "I grabbed like two days' worth of clothes and I just... hit the road. I didn't know what else to do. Who else I could go to."

"You were right to come to me," he said, reaching out and tucking my hair behind my ear. "That sheriff in town... he would have let you take the fall for it if you turned it in. He always was a stupid, ambitious fuck."

"What am I supposed to do, Johnnie?" I asked, hearing my voice hitch slightly and taking a deep breath to try to keep myself from crying... again.

"First, you're going to calm down. You're safe with me. He won't think to look for you here. So take a deep breath," he paused long enough for me to realize that wasn't a suggestion, but an order and I sucked in a deep breath. "Good. Now when was the last time you slept?"

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