His lips were back at my ear. “Best part about last night was you comin’ home.”

At this point, if I had it in me, I would have rolled my eyes.

“And then you makin’ me come,” he continued, his voice lower. “That is, after you made me watch you makin’ yourself come.”

“Leave me alone,” I muttered not wanting to remember even as good as it was. I’d been out-of-control. No inhibitions, none. It had been wild and considering our sex life, that was practically unbelievable. Even Joe had been surprised, I could tell. He didn’t complain nor did he resist, but he’d been surprised.

“Gotta get you drunk more often, buddy,” Joe decided.

“Alone,” I begged.

“Every night,” Joe kept at me.

I forced my eyes open, shifted only my eyeballs to him and declared, “No more drink. No more sex. Ever.”

He burst out laughing which shook the bed and made me hold onto the pillow tighter and close my eyes against my stomach roiling.

“Colt’s bachelor party tonight means I’ll be home drunk,” he told me and I groaned. It was Feb’s bachelorette party last night that set the scene for my drunken sex attack on my boyfriend. When he spoke again, his mouth was again at my ear. “So you better rest up, honey.”

I wasn’t hungover enough not to get a little thrill at what Joe might dream up drunk. I liked what he could do sober and I liked what he let me do when I was drunk. Joe drunk was probably going to be awesome.

Nevertheless, I asked the pillow, “Didn’t I say go away?”

“Yeah,” he answered and I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Then go,” I demanded.

I felt his lips on my shoulder then I felt his fingers tuck my hair behind my ear.

“I’ll tell the girls you said good-bye,” he offered.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“I’m goin’ into the office.”

“Great,” I said.

“You feel up to it, we’ll go to Frank’s for lunch.”

I groaned again and burrowed into the pillows.

“Don’t talk about food,” I whispered, he chuckled and his hand slid from the small of my back over my ass.

“Get rest and then get fluids in you,” he advised.

“Mm,” I mumbled.

“Only you could be cute hungover,” he muttered as I felt his weight leave the bed.

“Don’t be nice when I’m hungover,” I demanded.

“Why?” Joe sounded surprised and amused.

“I like to be nice back when you’re nice and I can’t move,” I explained.

I felt his lips hit my neck and then they went back to my ear. “You can be nice tonight when I come home drunk. We’ll start with that thing you did when you climbed astride my stomach and move on from there.”

I closed my eyes tighter as memories invaded of me drunk and naked, climbing on top of a just awake Joe and then giving him a one-woman show. A show he liked so much he turned the light on to watch.

My body trembled with embarrassment.

“Ugh,” I grunted.

“Fuck, baby, never forget that. That beats you wrestlin’ wet and in a skirt with Susie Shepherd.”

I lifted and turned my head, opening my eyes to glare up at him. His head moved back with my movements and I saw he was smiling huge which meant he was laughing inside.

“Go away, Joe!” I snapped and winced but his hand wrapped around the back of my head, he lifted me up further, kissed me hard and closed-mouthed and then he let me go.

“Rest,” he ordered.

“I would if you’d leave me alone,” I informed him and he just grinned.

Then he smacked my ass lightly over the covers and walked out of the room.

I collapsed into the bed and listened to Joe talk quietly to the girls. Then I heard them leave. Then I fell into blissful sleep having no idea that shield Joe had built around me was about to collapse.

* * *

Colt climbed the stairs of the Station and saw Sully’s head come up when he hit the top. Then he watched Sully smile.

“Was Feb as shitfaced as Raine when she got home?” he asked before Colt even made it to his desk.

Colt smiled. Feb was beyond shitfaced. Feb was so wasted she could barely move. However, she wasn’t so wasted she couldn’t use her mouth, which she did to spectacular results after which she kissed his chest, grinned up at him like she’d just succeeded in climbing Mount Everest instead of sucking him off and then promptly passed out.

“Too bad Feb only gets one bachelorette party,” Colt muttered as he shrugged off his blazer and hooked it around the back of his chair.

“Yeah,” Sully grinned, “bachelorette parties are my favorite part of my friends gettin’ hitched.”

Considering Sully’s wife Lorraine got smashed after a daiquiri and a half, Colt figured Sully had a pretty good night.

“I’m doin’ a Meems run,” Sully told him, straightening from his chair as Colt sat in his, “you want a coffee?”

Mimi’s Café was two blocks away and her coffee was so good, you never said no when someone offered it.

“Yeah. Cappuccino,” Colt replied as his phone rang.

He reached for it and Sully reached for his blazer.

“Colton,” he said into the receiver after he put it to his ear.

“Colt? Pryor. We got a situation,” he heard Barry Pryor say, he sounded far from happy and Colt’s eyes cut to Sully. Sully saw the look in them and stopped moving.

“What?” Colt asked.

“Last night was a bloody one for Chicago,” Pryor answered.

“What?” Colt asked again.

“Someone tried to whack Daniel Hart. This whack failed to take down Hart but it took down two of his top boys. Hart didn’t hesitate with retribution and a drive by at Sal Giglia’s favorite haunt saw four of his soldiers buy it not to mention a waitress and the bartender is critical.”

Colt closed his eyes and sat back in his chair muttering, “Fuck.”

“You know about our friend?” Pryor asked and Colt opened his eyes to see Sully sit in the chair by Colt’s desk.

Colt knew. He knew that Cal’s grandfather’s sister married a Giglia. He knew the Giglias were big time mob, not low level, upper echelon and they had been for a long time. He knew Cal had briefly worked security for Giglia during the last war Giglia had with Hart. He knew Cal had lost his cousin to that war and took a bullet protecting Giglia during it. And lastly he knew that Cal was impatient enough to act reckless and activate the family.

“Yeah,” he answered Pryor.

“Well, my guess is, Hart does too. My guess is Hart knows that our friend is losin’ patience. My guess is Hart’s gonna know what our friend’s up to,” Pryor stated.

“What have your boys been doin’?” Colt asked.

“As you know, Captain agreed and Fed’s approved so we been gettin’ in his business. He hasn’t been likin’ this much,” Pryor replied.

“He put that two with the other two and get four?”

“He’s a psychopath but he isn’t stupid.”

“Was Sal Giglia at that restaurant last night?” Colt asked.

“Yeah, he’s fine but I’m guessin’ he’s also pissed which means the earth under Chicago shifted last night and we all gotta hold on,” Pryor answered.

Colt suspected he wasn’t wrong. He just hoped that quake wouldn’t hit his town.

“Any more to report?” Colt asked.

“Last night was busy. Feds got the books,” Pryor told him.

Finally, good news.

He looked at Sully and said, “They got the books.”

Sully’s brows went up but Pryor kept talking.

“They got forensic accountants combin’ ‘em and a judge on hold for a warrant.”

“How long’s that gonna take?”

“They’re fast-tracked.”

“That isn’t an answer,” Colt told him.

“My gut?” Pryor asked.

“Lay it out,” Colt answered.

“Make some calls. They’re workin’ fast but Hart’ll work faster. This isn’t about Vi anymore. This is about retaliation.”

“Right,” Colt said.

“I’ll keep you briefed. You do the same,” Pryor ordered.

“Yeah. Later.”

“Later.”

Colt put the receiver in the cradle and then twisted to his blazer to get his cell asking Sully, “Someone on Vi this mornin’?”

“Chris,” Sully answered. “What’s up?”

“Call him. A hit on Hart went bad last night, two down, Hart survived. He retaliated against Sal Giglia and five were killed and the kills were sloppy, they took out a waitress and the bartender’s critical. Giglia’s gonna move back. They got the books. It’s goin’ down.”

“This gonna blow down here?” Sully asked, moving quickly back to his desk.

“My guess, Pryor’s gut? Yeah. You call Chris, tell him she needs to be home behind Cal’s security fortress and Chris is glued to her. Then you call who’s on the girls. They’re taken out of school and they’re home. We got someone on Cal?”

“Adam,” Sully answered, his phone to his ear.

Colt scrolled down to Cal and hit go. He put the phone to his ear and waited, getting voicemail. He disconnected and called again and again got voicemail.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he waited for the message to clear and heard the beep. “Cal, Colt. Minute you get this, call me. Shit went down in Chicago last night. You, Vi and the girls need to be home. Sully’s talkin’ to Chris who’s got Vi and we’re movin’ to get the girls.”

He disconnected and scrolled up to Adam.

“Chris isn’t answering,” Sully said and Colt looked at him.

“What?”

“Called twice. No answer,” Sully said, the receiver still at his ear he spoke into it. “Connie,” he said to the woman who was working dispatch, “get a callout to Chris. You connect, you tell him to move on Vi, take her home, batten down the hatches and call me in that order. He can brief her after he gets briefed.”