The Dragon (G.O.N.Y. - Double Dragon) Page 18

  “Ramsey!” she squealed when he went particularly deep.

  He licked her bottom lip in apology and withdrew. “You can take all of me, can’t you, baby?”

  She moaned, her sex contracting around him in agreement.

  “Yes, you know you can,” he continued, thrusting into her hard. “You’ve taken every inch of your phal before, haven’t you?”

  “I think my pussy missed taking all of her phal,” he continued, leaning down to suck at her lips. “Jez?” She mewled as he thrust deeper. “That’s it, baby, open for me.” He felt her cream further and moaned as he withdrew and came into her again. He was mindful of her condition, but the doctor had assured him that they could have sex, all kinds of sex because hell, he’d wanted to be sure, and not hurt her or the baby.

  Except for the breathy moans, the occasional mewls, she kept up with his thrusts. He licked the seam of her lips and when she parted them, sucked her tongue into his mouth. Her hands slid into his hair and she kissed him with a hunger matched by his own. Only then, did he thrust deep, hoping he’d readied her enough to take all of him, and biting the inside of his cheek to keep from coming as her sheath took him to the balls.

  “Fuck!” If he could scream more expletives, Ramsey would have done so. He only got that out before he was forced to breathe through it.

  “Oh God! Ramsey!”

  He withdrew and thrust to the hilt again, groaning at the feel of her tightness sucking on him. “So good.” He hauled in air and withdrew again. “Are you going to come for me, Jez?” He kissed her neck, sucked her spot. “Need you to come.” He wasn’t going to last much longer. His balls were already tingling, tightening…

  Pulling from her slick heat to protests, he latched on to a distended nipple before moving to the other. She moaned, mewled, whimpered, and finally demanded he fuck her. Ramsey obliged. His thrusts were quick, meant to finish.

  “Ramsey!” she moaned, running her hands up and down his back. As her nails scored him, he growled. “Fuck me, Ramsey!”

  He increased his thrusts, pushing faster, harder. It was wild, it was intense. Beneath him, her body tensed, coiled, and then her pussy began to clench down. Seconds later, he thrust to the hilt and lost it.

  Ramsey fell off of her. He wouldn’t describe it as a roll. That was too graceful a word for him falling to the bed at her side. As he caught his breath, he turned to her. If not for the uneven breaths, he would have thought her asleep.

  “Jez?”

  “Hm?” she rasped.

  “Okay?”

  “Yes.”

  That was good enough for him. In those moments, everything outside of her, of them, was forgotten. Finding the strength to reach down for the covers and wrap around her body, he stroked her belly once, twice, and was asleep before he could do much of anything else.

  ***

  She wasn’t addicted to Ramsey Stone. No, it was much worse. She was falling in love with him, again.

  Jezebel had never thought of herself as weak. Weak was not something she associated with herself or ever wanted to, but right now, that was exactly what she was. He was a gangster, a criminal who’d done things, terrible, skin-crawling things she’d probably never know about because he was also a liar, and she was in love with him. She reminded herself of her shattered life, the company she’d had to turn over, the house she’d had to leave, the man she’d killed, the danger she and her unborn child were in, and although anger came in waves, it did nothing to snap her out of loving Kang Jae Ramsey Stone. Even replaying the night she’d gone to his apartment and found him with a woman, who she now accepted was Sarah, did little to appease her need, her longing for him. If it was just sexual, she’d have embraced it and dismissed it as pregnancy hormones, but it was so much more. She found herself constantly thinking about him, concerned about him. Damn it, it had barely been two weeks and she was right back to where she’d been all those months ago when she’d first learned of Ramsey’s other life: torn.

  With a groan, Jezebel continued shampooing her hair. She scratched her scalp with the tips of her fingers, finding great pleasure in washing the grit, grease and grime of many weeks from her hair. She’d mentioned she needed shampoo and conditioner this morning when she’d awoken to Ramsey twirling a lock of her hair around his finger, and by midday, he’d handed her a bag filled with three different kinds. At this point, Jezebel didn’t care. She needed a perm, and her hair was going to break anyway, but his thoughtfulness had only made that silly organ in her chest flutter like the wings of a fleeing butterfly.

  When had it happened? She’d hated him for the months she’d been in hiding, and then he’d found her, and she’d hated him some more, and somehow, she was right back to loving him. Her emotions had probably started rolling right around seeing him again in the Catskills. He’d saved her life, saved her sister, though he was responsible for her being in the situation in the first place. And he’d apologized for putting her in danger and ransacking her entire life, told her he hadn’t slept with anyone since their last encounter in July, and made love to her instead of fucking her. Jezebel remembered how he’d dragged her into her room that night and taken her from behind. Heat coursed through her body. Made love to her and fucked her. He’d also gotten her shampoo, three different kinds of shampoo.

  Jezebel groaned and stepped under the powerful spray of the shower. She was weak, ridiculous, and hopeless. As sudsy, vanilla-scented water ran down her face, she brushed it away and pulled her fingers through her hair. Had she ever fallen out of love with him? Even when she hated him, hadn’t she always felt something for Ramsey Stone?

  By the time she was finished, robe-clad with a fluffy towel wrapped around her head, Jezebel still didn’t have answers. What she did know was that somehow, she still loved Ramsey Stone. Staring at herself in the fogged up mirror, Jezebel shook her head and built her resolve. Love him or not, he was dangerous, and she envisioned no future, outside of the child they’d share, with him.

  ***

  “You wanted to see me?”

  From his seat in the chair that faced Ramsey’s desk, Bastian nodded and cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologize for my attitude and actions over the past months.” He paused and sighed. “I was out of line and I’m sorry.”

  It had been one week since Ramsey and Bastian squared off in the boxing ring, and his brother’s bruises were all but gone. There was still some redness around one eye, but it was barely noticeable.

  “You were out of line and you’re sorry?” Ramsey repeated slowly.

  “Yes.” Bastian locked eyes with him. “I shouldn’t have acted the way I did to Jezebel or you. She’s a guest here and you’re my brother, my older brother, and I owe you the respect of the station.”

  “Oh?” Leaning back in his chair, Ramsey asked, “What’s your excuse?” When Bastian lifted a brow, he added, “Do you have an excuse?”

  The other man didn’t speak for long moments, just held Ramsey’s gaze, until finally, he shook his head and exhaled deep. “I’m still grieving, Ramsey.” Bastian ran a hand through his hair. “I lost my daughter less than two months ago. You might not believe it but I loved Lily.” Ramsey forced himself to hold his tongue. He didn’t doubt that his brother loved his daughter. He just wished Bastian had showed it to Lily more. “She was everything to me, the only thing in my life that made sense. Lily was the only reason I stayed…” He broke off as his voice cracked, shook his head and looked down. His shoulders seemed to cave in on themselves.“I loved my daughter, and I miss her, just like you.”

  Ramsey allowed silence to wash over them. Bastian seemed sober, coherent, and reasonable, three adjectives he’d been unable to string together when describing his brother in the past years.

  “I found one of the men responsible for Lily’s death.”

  Bastian’s head snapped up, his eyes, which were red and pain-filled, became angry. “Is he dead?”

  Considering his next move wisely, Ramsey shook his head. “I’m meeting
with him tomorrow.”

  “Can I come?”

  Leaning forward, Ramsey looked his younger brother in the eye and said, “If that’s what you want, Bastian, but be certain it is.” As his brother swallowed reflexively, he added, “Once done, there are things that cannot be undone.”

  “I understand.” Did he? Ramsey didn’t think so but he would. “What time?”

  “Early morning,” he replied, being purposefully vague. “Vince will come for you after midnight.”

  With a nod, Bastian stood. “Thank you for listening to me and allowing me to do this.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Ramsey called, halting Bastian before he reached the door. “You may hate me for it later.”

  As the door closed behind Bastian, Ramsey frowned. It had been a long time coming. His brother was too sheltered. Except for the few initiations and family meetings he attended, Bastian had lived his life away from the Double Dragon. His vices had been those of a regular guy, alcohol, women, the occasional drugs, but Bastian had never been called on to murder, maim, or torture. Allowing him to see what happened to people who crossed Ramsey would be good for him. He also wanted Chang and Bastian in the same room. A man who knew death was imminent had no cause to lie. While he doubted Bastian’s involvement with Chang, especially as that would mean he’d killed his own daughter, Ramsey wanted certainty.

  Tomorrow, Chang Chul-Moo was going to name names before he died. He just hoped, for his mother’s sake, that his brother’s wasn’t among them.

  ***

  She didn’t know if Ramsey came to her room that night because Jezebel was holed up in Delilah’s.

  When she’d walked into her sister’s room with a huge bowl of popcorn and a paper bag of other assortments she’d removed from the refrigerator, Delilah had cast suspicious glances her way but had allowed Jezebel to get under the covers with her and find a movie channel. As she searched for something that sounded interesting and was either in English or had subtitles, Delilah ransacked her goodie bag.

  Her sister’s snort drew Jezebel’s attention. Delilah was holding a jar of pickles in one hand and peanut butter in the other. “I thought you were over this.”

  Jezebel shrugged. She’d thought so too, but the urge had hit when she was in the kitchen, looking around for things to consume. As soon as her eyes landed on the jar, the cravings were back. Grabbing both jars from her sister, she smirked, “I’m not.” As Delilah stared down at her in surprise, Jezebel grinned and murmured, “Turn off the lights.”

  Almost an hour into the movie, Delilah asked, incredulity clear in her tone, “Are you hiding out in my room?”

  Jezebel halted her crunchy chewing before resuming as if she hadn’t heard her.

  “Jez?”

  “I’m watching a movie with my sister.”

  “Really? That’s all? You’re not avoiding Ramsey Stone after realizing you’re falling in love with him again?”

  Although she tensed at her sister’s uncanny observation, Jezebel only pressed further into the bed pillows. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

  Delilah was silent for so long that Jezebel began to think her sister was letting it go. She’d just dunked another pickle into the peanut butter when Delilah muttered, “I knew this was going to happen. You can’t sleep around without getting your emotions involved. And you’re pregnant!” Her sister grabbed a handful of popcorn, tossed it into her mouth and began to chew. “Whatever. Your life, your mistakes. As long as you accept that he’s a dangerous mob boss and you’ll never be safe around him.”

  As her sister refocused on the movie, Jezebel acknowledged her words. Delilah was right. As long as Ramsey was involved in illegal activities and in her life, she’d never be safe, her child would never be safe. She’d have to have another “talk” with Ramsey, and this time, she’d be tossing in her own set of “options.”

  ***

  As expected, Chang Chul-Moo arrived on time.

  From his vantage point on the second floor of the shoe-manufacturing factory, Ramsey watched one lone vehicle turn down the dark and winding road in the secluded garment district. Lifting his night vision binoculars, he looked behind the car, searching out others. When none appeared, he refocused his attention on the black car that was slowly approaching.

  “He wants us to think he came alone,” Vince stated with a trace of humor in his tone. They knew Chang had come with an envoy of three vans, that those vans had parked a mile away from their location.

  Ramsey lowered the binoculars and turned to his cousin. “Ready our guests.”

  As Vince walked to a far corner, Ramsey moved in the opposite direction, to the stairs. His men were everywhere; at the tops and bottoms of stairs, in dark corners on the first and second floors, patrolling the outside of the building. When he stepped onto the first floor, Chang was coming through the door.

  “Hands where I can see them,” Ramsey called in an easy tone. He was heavily strapped with weapons, two guns and three knives, but he wouldn’t have to reach for them. His men had been briefed and were ready.

  The man froze but lifted his hands, palms up.

  “Remove your jacket.” As he rushed to comply, Ramsey added, “Slowly. I don’t want our conversation to be over before it begins.”

  Chang unzipped the dark gray blazer and tossed it to the ground. “Satisfied?” he spat. Even weaponless, the older man was dangerous. He’d grown up in a time when the body was a weapon, and much like Ramsey’s grandfather and the gangsters of old, was proficient in some form of martial arts. Ramsey didn’t fool himself into thinking old age had done much to change his mastery.

  Ramsey smiled. “Not yet, but I will be.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Your grandsons?”

  “Kang Jae Seong must be rolling his grave,” Chang hissed. “There has always been a code among us, an honor system. Your grandfather would put a bullet between your eyes if he could see you now.”

  Ramsey smirked. “My grandfather would slit your throat for what you did to his family.”

  “What?” the older man raged. “What have I done to your family to make you kidnap my daughter, my grandsons?” Before Ramsey could answer, Chang looked around and snapped, “Where are they?”

  Ramsey barely blinked at his anger, instead, he watched him like a teacher looks at a tantrum-prone child.

  “I’m here,” Chang raged. “I’m here alone and now I want to see them!”

  “Of course,” Ramsey acknowledged. “But first, a few…precautions.”

  “What?”

  “Your weapons. Remove them.”

  The man released a dry laugh. “My jacket and my weapons?” Chang sobered. “You think I don’t know why you asked me here? You think I don’t know how this ends?” He paused and looked around. “Release my daughter and grandsons, and swear on your life, on the life of your unborn child, that you will let them go.”

  Unease trickled down his spine but Ramsey drawled, “And why would I do that?”

  “Do it and you won’t have a war you’re not prepared for, son.” Chang smiled and shook his head. “You may think you’re bad because you killed a few of my men, that going away to your fancy university in America gives you an advantage over me, but you’re no gangster.” He snorted. “You never were. The true Dragon died years ago and left you to figure it out. You don’t even know what the fuck you’re doing.”

  “Don’t I?” Reaching into his pocket, Ramsey tossed the cold, velvety ring box to the older man. Out of reflex, he caught it.

  “What is this?”

  “A gift, from my family to yours.”

  Chang’s smile faded and his nostrils flared. He opened the box and his face grew pinched. Closing it quick, he shook his head and lifted angry eyes to Ramsey. “I knew it was you.”

  “It was.” In the box was a frozen finger and the signet ring that had been on it when it was removed. Said finger and ring once belonged to the now deceased Kim Hyun-Bin, whose incinerated ashes had
been laid to rest in the New York sewers.

  The old man took a step forward but halted at the sound of gun clips being released. Instead, he raised his hand and jabbed a finger in Ramsey’s direction. “When your world is collapsing around you, remember that you started this war!”

  “You started this war when you had your son-in-law murder my niece.” A hiss to his left showcased Bastian, who now stood a few steps from the staircase. Ramsey returned his attention to Chang in time to see the man draw back. “He told me everything, including how he hired a low-life contract killer to run over my niece, how he paid him extra because she was a child and he had issues, though clearly not that much, killing children.”

  “You’re lying!” Chang spat. “Kim wouldn’t murder a child! I wouldn’t murder a child!”

  “Who conspired with you, Chang?” Ramsey interrupted. “Was it Kwan? Are you two trying to drive me out?” At Chang’s incredulous look, he continued, “The Triad perhaps? Did you promise them my territory? Tell me, Chang, tell me and I’ll consider letting your family live.”

  Ramsey heard a whimper and turned in the direction to find Vince leading Chang’s daughter and grandsons into the room. They had all been given fresh clothes and food, and only looked blotchy and puffy eyed due to tears and fear.

  “Jung Won!” Chang moved forward but halted when Vince turned the gun he’d had pressed on her back onto him.

  “Aboji!” she cried, gripping the two boys to her.

  A nod in Vince’s direction had his cousin leading the woman and two children into a corner. She huddled down and protectively embraced her children as Vince towered over them with his drawn gun.

  “Who are you working with?” Ramsey repeated, forcing Chang to focus on him.

  “I didn’t―I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Wrong answer.”

  Ramsey turned to Vince and nodded once. A single gunshot exploded in the night.

  ***

  Déjà vu.

  That was what Jezebel experienced when she awoke to the blaring sound of an alarm and men yelling. For a moment, she wondered if it was the television, but that thought was quickly dismissed when she noticed it was pitch black in the room. She pushed onto her elbows and listened.