Page 39 of Ballistic

“So, you help her find these men, she tells you where to find Tesarik?”

“Something like that.”

“She’s—” Jase’s eyes diverted from mine, to somewhere beyond me.

I craned my neck to find Lucy and Nicoleta standing at the doorway to the house, and the air escaped my lungs for a moment.

The short spikes of Nicoleta’s blonde hair had been jelled up and styled. Makeup covered up the scars and yellowing bruises on her face and neck, and the smoky coal of her eyes gave a sultry look, like something from a magazine cover, or billboard, perfectly balanced against the deep red lipstick. Tight black pants paired with a black leather vest, and some kind of fitted asymmetrical T-shirt beneath, made her look fucking edible. Like a rock goddess coming to lay claim to my soul.

“The plan was to blend in, Luce. You got her looking like she belongs on a fucking catwalk.” I handed Luna off to her mother, as she rounded the patio chair with a shit-eating grin on her face. “Pardon my French.”

“Girls gotta hold her own walking into a strip club, Dax. What’d you think I was going to put her in? One of my maternity dresses?” Lucy waved Nicoleta over and slid onto the couch beside Jase, whose arm naturally wrapped around her. “She looks hot. You better keep your eye on her tonight, or someone might swipe her out from underneath you.”

“Exactly my point.” Fucking hell, she may as well have sent up a bat signal to Tesarik’s men, for all the attention she’d draw in that outfit.

Nicoleta squeezed into the space beside me, her body stiff and guarded. We looked nowhere near at ease as Jase and Lucy together.

Not that we should have.

“Since when do you wear this stuff?” I directed my question to Lucy, who had on gray athletic capris and a North Face sweatshirt—a far cry from the BDSM-inspired get up she’d dressed Nicoleta in.

“You should see some of the shit she wears when you’re not around,” Jase said, nuzzling his face in her neck with a groan. He kept on for a good thirty seconds, even setting his hand beneath her chin as if to hold her steady while he went to town on her throat.

Awkward from where I sat, trying not to stare at Nicoleta’s thighs in those skintight pants. “All right, c’mon … fuckin’ puppies ain’t as cute as you two. You’re gonna have the neighbors reporting you for bath salts, you keep chomping on her neck like that, man. Get a room.”

With a quiet laugh, Lucy tilted her head toward Jase, and he pulled away. “Well, when I’m not being a frumpy mom, I actually wear cool clothes, Dax. So I set her up with something of a starter wardrobe. You’ll have to get her a different pair of boots. Mine are just a tad big on her. And some lingerie,” she added, sending a wink to Nicoleta beside me.

Which meant she wasn’t wearing a damn thing under those tight pants and that shirt. I tried not to think about her nipples popping through the thin material, or the glide of fabric across that panty-less ass. Or that every horny bastard up in that dirty strip club would be eyeing her like a pack of hyenas on an innocent gazelle.

A gazelle that could whoop their asses in a knife fight, no less.

“Thanks again.” Nicoleta’s soft voice broke my thoughts.

I nodded and cleared my throat, reaching for one of my cigarettes I’d abandoned on the coffee table while holding Luna. “I’ll be sure to get her whatever she needs.” I lit up, catching sight of Nicoleta’s thigh next to mine, small and delicate. At a flash of it slung over my shoulder, I clamped my eyes and blew the smoke off to the side, giving some reprieve to the pussy party going on in my head.

For fucks sake. The girl was barely legal and had been through some bad shit. Shit she might’ve willingly signed up for, but bad nonetheless. The getup she wore had my head spinning, and my mouth watering like a ravenous animal ready to tear into something soft and fleshy.

As if the asshole could read my mind, Jase sat forward, “Who’s ready for steaks?”

15

Nicoleta

Feet propped up on the dashboard and my arms wrapped around my bent knees, I sat in the passenger seat, watching Hamtramck morph into downtown Detroit. “Lucy’s nice.”

I’d never really been comfortable around other women, who somehow viewed me as not one of their own. The girls in high school had written me off as an outcast, the moment they’d learned I came from a scuzzy eastside trailer park. Anyone from waitresses to teachers, to the snotty bitches who worked in the office where I went for weekly counseling sessions, regarded me as something different. Something lower than them. Which probably explained why I’d taken up with hardened criminals. Men who looked like they’d just broken out of a Russian prison, with their tattoos and steroid infused bodies. Men who, for whatever reason, respected a misfit like me.

“She is. Jase is lucky to have her.”

“Her baby is cute.”

The corner of his lips kicked up, and I could see the very mention of that baby set his heart alight. Was kinda cute, in a way. “Luna’s my princess. Anyone who ever breaks that girl’s heart is going to have me to answer to.”

“I don’t know. Her dad looks like he’s kicked some ass in his day.”

Dax snorted, and the way he leaned against the console, stroking his chin, had me sliding my feet off the dash to cross my legs. Just as I’d had to do back at Jase and Lucy’s, when I’d caught him staring at my thighs. I’d become accustomed to that look. Of older men staring at me in ways that’d make my stomach turn.

It was different with Dax. He didn’t make me feel dirty and cheap when he looked at me. I couldn’t even explain the difference, because I’d never allowed myself to enjoy that kind of attention before.