Wind Therapy - A.J. Downey Page 0,32

legit had none of my own, my ass hanging out in front of, it turned out, my best friend since childhood – Mallory. Dahlia to the rest of the guys around here. It was her burlesque stage name, Dahlia Darlin.’

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Mav!” Dahlia cried and the hard edge in her voice made me smirk at first, wondering who she was annoyed with this time. That smirk quickly fled when she said, “You, whore, out!”

Marisol stiffened and straightened turning her face as I locked my hands around her wrists and held her tight against my chest.

“Who you callin’ a whore, coño de mierda!” Her nudity forgotten, she braced feet against the desk and kicked out, feisty.

I almost lost my hold on her and grinning savagely I yelled at Dahlia, “Give us a minute, Flower!” Dahlia was in super bitch mode, and simply stepped to the inside of the room and leaned her back against the wall beside it, her willowy arms coming up to cross themselves under her tits.

She was dressed to the nines, as always. A white sleeveless silk blouse with a deep cut ‘V’ neckline, a gently breezy ruffle from her shoulders tapering elegantly in front of her breasts to point out her narrow waist which was ensconced in a tight, knee-length, black pencil skirt. Her black hose were perfect, the lines in the back straight as an arrow, the crimson heels she had on absolutely on point. Her hair was perfectly coiffed as well, the victory rolls in the 1940s style with no hair out of place and tucked behind her ear, into her raven locks, was a crimson dahlia flower, the match for those lofty heels she wore.

Her makeup was smoky and perfect, and she was beautiful, as always – she was also the equivalent of my little sister. My father’s and her father’s crime families closely intertwined and the way we grew up together? The way we played as children, and the secrets we both knew?

No, we kept each other in balance, in check, but there was nothing romantic about it. In fact, I’d told more than one motherfucker out there, you make her cry, and I’m gonna make you cry.

That was the way thing were, and they weren’t changing.

Marisol, by comparison to Dahlia’s cool, calm, and collected dagger staring, was an absolute wildcat at the perceived disrespect, ready to throw down with my bestie over her callin’ her a whore. It was drama I didn’t need, but a tinderbox that Dahlia was seemingly glad to throw a match to by the little smirk raising the corner of her equally crimson lips.

“Whoa there, Zaychik!” I cried and couldn’t help the laughter. Dahlia didn’t know it, but she’d be lucky to get out of here without getting her ass kicked. Just not by Marisol. I had a mind to set her a lesson myself on just where she fell in the actual hierarchy of this place because right now? She was damn sure above her station barging in here and starting a ruckus like this.

I eventually had to settle for shoving Marisol out the door to my office and across the hall into the chapel, sending her stumbling, sprawling into the chair at the foot of my table and calling sharply in after her, “Settle down!” and slightly less harshly, but no less sternly, “And pull yourself together.”

I shut the door behind me, went back across the hall tucking myself into my pants and slammed the door to my office closed.

“Just what’s the fucking problem, Dahl?” I growled out.

“You!” she hissed. “What’s this I hear you’re picking up jailbait out in fucking Yakima, Mav? That girl ain’t a day over fifteen or sixteen.” She sounded positively venomous, her Medusa out in full scale, but while I went to stone – it wasn’t at her gaze. I was pissed.

“She’s damn near twenty years old, what the fuck, Dahlia? Are you seriously standing there accusing me – me! Of being a goddamned pedo?”

“I saw what I saw just now, Maverick!” she hissed back.

“She’s of age, Mallory!” I shot back coldly.

She scoffed, and just like always, didn’t know when to fuckin’ leave well enough alone, always having to get her digs in when she was fired up.

“I mean, the apple really never does fall far from the tree – your daddy—”

I confess. I felt like shit for what happened when those last two words fell from her crimson painted lips. My hand flashed out in a wicked back-handed strike