“I don’t want to leave, Sweetling. I don’t—”
“I know.”
“They were able to capture one of the vehicles…” he trails off but my imagination fills in the blanks. He’s going to torture the men they caught for information. And I hope he makes it hurt.
“I know, Yak. I understand.”
“I love you.” He leans over and gives me a lingering kiss. “Both of you.”
“We love you, too. Now, go be a vicious WAB.” I force a lightness into my voice, not wanting to upset him.
“Weak ass—”
“What? No. Wickedly Attractive Bastards.” I shake my head. “Who told you it stood for weak—”
“Or whiney.” Monty chuckles. “Fucking Tovah.” He lifts his chin and puckers his lips. Yak rolls his eyes but obliges him with a kiss. “I’ve got her.”
“I know.” Yak releases a weighted sigh, stands up and strides out of our suite.
Closing my eyes, I snuggle into Monty’s body. Today was going so well… “I don’t understand why they are coming after us.”
“We don’t either, baby, but Yak will find out why.”
Someone knocks on our door. “Open up.” I perk up at the sound of Blanche’s demand.
“It’s open.” Monty calls out. The door flies open and Blanche saunters in, Rose behind her.
Rose slumps on the couch at my feet. “I don’t have a dick to comfort me.”
“Well, you can’t have mine!” I starfish over Monty to protect him from my sister.
“No emotional support vag for me.” I glance at them, snickering when I catch their puppy dog eyes and pathetic pouts.
“Alright, you three get comfy. I’ll be right back.” Monty slides out from under me, walks toward the small kitchenette and opens the freezer. He pulls out two tubs of ice cream, grabs a few spoons and sets them on the coffee table in front of us. Blanche squeezes between me and Rose, spreading the blanket over us. Monty picks up the remote and then slides in behind me as he turns on the television and starts searching.
“What are you doing?” Blanche asks suspiciously. I don’t blame her, until the Kosher Nostra, we weren’t familiar with “nice” guys. And to most people these men wouldn’t be classified as nice, but they are to us.
I miss what movie he selects. The production company logo appears on the screen while Monty gets comfy and situates me where he wants me with a tub of ice cream in one hand with a spoon. “I figure a little ice cream and Chris O’Donnell therapy is in order.”The Three Musketeers.God, I love this man more than I can adequately express. Yakov, too, as he uses anything at his disposal to protect me and our family.
“You know, Monty,” Blanche begins, dipping a spoon into the ice cream she and Rose are sharing, “you ain’t so bad.”
“Thanks, Blanche. That means a lot.”
Her shoulders jerk and she slides a bit away from us, her lips puckered in displeasure like she ate a lemon. “Alright, well don’t be a little bitch about it, Monty.”
Sophia 14.
The tension in the mishpocheh compound is stifling. Almost a week later, and still no information on the latest attack. My sisters and I have been working from the compound. I postponed the viewings I had scheduled without being asked. Yak expressed his gratitude with his mouth between my legs for nearly an hour. Monty was worried about lockjaw and finally pushed him away from me. I was about to tap out anyway.
I’m sorting through data reports for the stadium project, compiling a thorough proposal for Moshe to present to the owners of King’s Mountain Casino. He has a meeting with Yona and Chaske next week. Their response to his request was positive and he assured me they seemed quite interested. I love rugby, obviously, and my sisters and I would love to have a local team to watch. I really want this for Monty. He talks about the sport with so much passion; I would wager he loves it almost as much as he loves Yak and me. It is something he and I share and I look forward to cultivating an exceptional rugby program here side-by-side with him.
“Yak. Just wait.” The door to our suite opens, Yak stomps in followed by a slightly less irritated Monty. I stare at the two of them with my jaw open, having never seen them like this before.
“Monty. Fuck off. I’m not talking about it anymore.” He slams the door shut and throws the lock.
“It’s not your fault—”
“I said, fuck. Off.”
