POWERHOUSE

Contracts on one’s lives can be messy and nasty business. But I have a bad feeling that the person who Pops has put one out on is the same person behind the studio’s drive by shooting.

When the food arrives, Salem is still lounging in the tub, but I know from experience that she’ll need food in her system to fuel her body.

Knocking on the door, I call out her name, “Salem. Sweetheart, it’s time to get out now. Food’s here.”

“Coming. I’m stepping out now, give me fifteen minutes, Cole.”

“I’ll get everything dished out. Coffee table good so we can watch some television while we eat?”

“Yeah, that works for me,” she answers, her voice melancholy and disassociated.

Her tone is robotic. I’m gonna need to push her hard and force her over this steep hump of discombobulation. If she stews, allowing this to fester, it’ll eventually scab over the wound, and she’ll become a shell of the woman I’m falling in love with.

I refuse to lose her before I’ve even had the chance to claim her.

As soon as the plates are settled on the table, Salem walks into the room, a towel wrapped around her head and the tiniest pair of sleep shorts that are hugging her ass showing off its voluptuous form. Moving my eyes upward, I notice she’s wearing a tank top that molds to her tits, hiding absolutely fucking nothing. She’s not wearing a bra and her dusky nipples peer at me, tempting me to forget that I’m attempting to be a gentleman.

Her body is tantalizing and alluring. I can’t wait to get my lips around those perfectly symmetric nubs. Swiping my bottom lip with my tongue, I clear my throat and divert my attention to the food laid out before us.

“I left the chips in the bag but put the dips in two separate bowls. The meals were gigantic, so I only put half of each on the plates and put the rest in the fridge. What would you like to drink?”

“I have a bottle of wine in the door of the refrigerator and a few bottles of beer in the bottom pull out drawer if you’d like one,” Salem offers, shifting from one foot to the other, trepidation written across her body.

“Settle, baby. Nothing’s happening tonight other than sharing some good food, watching the tube, and talking. I’ll grab you a glass of wine and myself a beer. Take a seat, find something for us to watch and I’ll be right back.”

“Comedy good with you? I need a good laugh after the day I’ve had,” she admits, chewing on her bottom lip awaiting my answer.

“That’s perfect, Salem.” Giving her the chance to unwind I head toward the kitchen and find her wine glasses, fill one up halfway before grabbing myself a cold one. A smile tilts on the upper corner of my lip when I realize she has my favorite brand stocked in the fridge’s bottom rack. “This is my preferred brand,” I say as I set our drinks down next to our meal.

“I know,” she shyly confesses. “When we had the barbeque at the clubhouse, you dug to the bottom of three different coolers until you found that brand.”

“I like that,” I tell her.

“Like what, Cole?”

“That you pay that much attention to my likes and dislikes,” I acknowledge.

“I notice everything about you, Cole.” She lets loose a short, brittle, and broken laugh before continuing, “Some might say I’m obsessed with learning everything about you.”

“It’s how couples get to know one another, sweetness. I wouldn’t call it an obsession, I’d call it interest,” I dispute, not wanting to make what’s growing between us sound dirty or wrong to her.

“Yeah, I like that better.”

“That’s fucking fantastic, babe. Now, what are we watching?”

“Raising Arizona,” she answers, cuing up the movie in her VCR. She has to rewind the tape which indicates she’s watched this a number of times because the tape sounds worn.

“Nicolas Cage is hilarious,” I state, affirming that he’s one of my favorite actors. None of his movies so far have been less than stellar and are always good for a good laugh.

“Holly Hunter and John Goodman are a riot when they’re mixed in with him,” she adds.

“I agree.”

As the show rolls, Salem loosens up and we begin to chow down on our dinner. We laugh to the point where tears are streaming down our cheeks, our tummies cramp, and we both rush to the restroom to release our bladders from the intensity of our snickering.

When the credits begin playing, I twist my body and lean over, grabbing a lock of her hair between my fingers. I start twirling it, contemplating how to start off this conversation that needs to happen tonight. She can’t hold on to this and bury it deep inside of herself.

She sighs, wiggles a bit, before rotating her torso and looking me straight in the eyes. “I know we need to talk, I wish I could forget it, but I know we need to hash this out so I sleep better tonight.”

“You’re right, we do, Salem. You can’t mask this with a smile and pretend like everything is good. What happened to you today, what you experienced, was fucked up.”

“It was, Cole. It really was. I’ve seen some shit, been through some stuff, but this was by far the worst thing I’ve ever gone through.”

SALEM

Admitting this to Cole lifts a weight from my shoulders I wasn’t aware I was carrying. It was scary, and I have to keep reminding myself that I made it out intact and alive. But even with my lids wide open, I’m reliving it, and it’s consistently on repeat in my mind.

“Do you know who it was? Who shot at the studio that is. Was it some sort of gang initiation thing like the police think or was it someone trying to hurt Aspen?”

“Why do you think the target was Aspen and not you or Dawn?” Cole inquires.

“Because Dawn and I are basically hermits. We go to work, the grocery store, and that’s it. We have no friends outside of you guys and I know none of you would ever hurt us. I’ve been thinking about this, Cole. There are several possibilities and unfortunately, they all come back to Aspen.”

“How do you figure, babe?”

I take several seconds to mull over the best way to explain what I’ve been thinking. “While in the tub, I dismissed the entire initiation scenario. For one, there aren’t any active gangs in our area. Am I right about that?”

“You are,” he confirms. “Break this down for me, love. Take me through each thought process you took.”

“Okay. Aspen has shared a little bit about her history with me. First off, the pastor and his son have shown no interest whatsoever in tracking down her location or being part of Juniper’s life, correct?”

“That’s right. Master went and had him sign legal papers terminating his rights to Juniper and Master has adopted her. So that conclusion is correct,” Cole assents, confirming my suspicions. “On to your next thought.”

“Second, she told me about the club that kidnapped her and tried to force her to become their spy. But they’ve been displaced and are no longer a viable threat, right?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Cole snorts. “But yes, they are no longer a threat to any of us. Next.”

“Third, Sicily. She’s sick in the head and is the only danger left to Aspen and Oakley. She jeopardizes their future together as a family. Oakley is the only tie Sicily has left to her daughter and she’s crazy enough to do whatever it takes to get Oakley back in her clutches. Does this sound like something she’d do to you?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know her well. I do know that she was in on getting Aspen into the club. Thank fuck Aspen had better sense and knew that her best bet was to come forth and admit that she was wired and was sent there to be a planted mole. Otherwise, I’m not sure what would’ve happened to her.”

“Wow. Are you telling me that y’all hurt women, Cole?”

“Only if they are after our family or are a threat to our club, Salem. We’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect everything we care about and our purpose in life is to keep y’all safe and sound.”

“Huh. It’s gonna take me a minute to wrap my head around that one,” she admits.

“Look at it this way, sweetness. If a woman puts herself in a man’s place, in that instance, she’ll suffer the same exact ramifications as a man would. If a female slaps me, she gets a pass. If she balls up her fist and slams it into my jaw, that’s a completely different story. She’s changed the context of the storyline and I will conform. If she holds a gun on me, I will fire a bullet from mine. If she holds a knife to my throat, I’ll slit hers.”

“I get it, Cole. I don’t like it, but I get it nonetheless.”

“Still need to wrap your head around it, Salem?”

“It’s hard to process, but it's not a deal breaker for me nor is it something that’s going to make me shift gears and walk away either. That’s a promise, Cole.”

“That’s good to hear, darlin’. I needed to hear that guarantee from you.”

“Well, you’ve got it.”

“So, Sicily. Wanna talk that out with me?” he asks.

“Yeah, because I think that’s the lead that makes the most sense and needs to be followed. That’s my opinion, anyway.”

“It’s a damn good one, babe. I’m surprised none of us put that together with today’s events,” Cole replies. “As a woman, what lengths would you go to in order to get your hands on Oakley?”

“You mean if I were a piece of shit who only thought about myself and not what’s best for my granddaughter?” I probe.

“Yeah. If you were that,” he continues. “What would you do?”

“Whatever it took. No matter how dirty I had to be in order to get what I wanted.”

“That’s what I was afraid of. Need to make a call. I’m gonna step out on the porch. You good with me doing that?”

“Yes. Are you sleeping over, Cole?”

“Damn straight I am.” He stands up after planting a kiss on my lips and heads out the door, picking up my cordless phone off the end table on his way out.

“Damn straight,” I parrot, placing my fingers atop my puffy, tingling lips. “Shit. That man slays me.”