Chapter Thirty-Eight

There was no better way to bastardize a football club than have it's core value be, "Saving one soul at a time," and having Jon Bon Jovi walking around like he owned the place, down to every single piece of over-priced silverware in the joint. He was all about the greater good, well fuck that was a load of hypocritical bullshit. He doubted Mr Bon Jovi had even seen the bad ways of the world, him or his pearly white teeth.

He peered through the glass as Jon and his squeeze, circled the crowds. He eyed her, she was tall, slim but athletic, and they'd never thought of the possibility she was his bodyguard until Tony lost a few teeth in a run in with her. Clever, he mused as he took a long drag of his cigarette. She was either carrying in her purse, or in a thigh holster. She had smoking legs and a rocking body, and hell, he wouldn't mind getting his own piece of that.

Were they just good actors? Or was Bon Jovi dipping his pen in the company ink behind closed doors, he'd put money on it. He was a man after all. He clicked his cigarette case closed and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans. This wasn't about innocent casualties, they were a waste and often pointless. This was about showing society that they are the biggest bunch of fucking hypocrites. Their shiny cars and their fat check books did nothing to close the gap of inequality between people, here, throw money at this cause and become a fucking hero overnight. Not like Wes, who just wanted was to play ball, live the dream he was constantly promised by these fuckheads, American Dream his ass. The knife he pulled from the sheath on his belt, glinted in the sunlight, and he smiled imagined it dripping with Jon Bon Jovi's blood. Wouldn't that just be poetic?

His phone buzzed, he snapped it open. "Yeah."

"Can you see them?"

He flicked his ash over the railing. "Yup, he's here."

"And the chick?"

He nodded, "and the chick."

"You know what to do?"

He blew out his smoke and slid his sunglasses up his nose, "I know what to do."

"Good. Don't fuck it up."

*click*

~


Jon fished in his pocket for painkiller, his head pounded like a jackhammer. He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned in to MacKenzie, "do you have any ibuprofen?" Ginger scented skin teased his nose, he was an ass the way he was playing her. But there was no other way, he had to keep things professional even if it meant strapping a muzzle around his cock when around her.

She popped open her purse and handed him a sheet, "are you ok?" Her eyes stayed on the room, her tone bland. He didn't blame her, he was being a prick.

"Headache." He downed them with his wine and continued making small talk with people, while MacKenzie stayed at his side. He linked his fingers through hers and instantly felt her warmth. They had to keep up his charade, feelings or no feelings. Everything was so unsettled, and it unnerved him to no end. "I need a smoke," he glanced out to the deck that overlooked the harbour. "Since you can see me, do you have to come?"

MacKenzie narrowed her eyes, "I'm not letting you stand out there alone Jon."

He rolled his eyes, "alright, well c'mon then." He excused them and tugged her outside, he retrieved his sunglasses and jammed them on. "Christ."

"Have you ever tried to give up those things?"

He flicked his flame and took a puff, "if it bothers you. Go back inside."

She folded her arms and faced the water, "did you get your period after we had sex?"

He choked on the breath of smoke he took, "I'm sorry?" Her sarcastic wit flared with a straight face.

She turned and raised her brow, "well did you? You've been a complete ass and if it's your way of saying you you got what you wanted, and you're moving on. Just say it, instead of playing childish games Jon."

He did get what he wanted, the problem was now instead of it being out of his system like he expected it would be, at least until this was over. He wanted more. Her long tanned legs glowed in the sunlight, and he itched to unravel her tight ponytail, to feel her hair around his wrists. "It's best. Too much is happening."

She lowered her sunglasses, "that's no reason to make me look stupid. We should at least talk about it."

He was done talking, All Dorothea wanted to do was talk when they were together, talking turned into shouting, and shouting turned into divorce. "Let's just leave it at that, chalk it up to excitment driving us over the edge."

She dropped her hands, "unbelievable."

He jerked, she moved her face into his, her lips millimetres from his mouth. "I risked our safety worrying about us, going out there on a limb to see if you felt the same way about me and now you're telling me we're chalking it up to adrenaline?"

He swallowed, distracted by her shiny lips and wondered if that was that stupid mint gloss she used. "Mackenzie, this isn't really the time to talk about this."

"Why? Because then people will see what an arrogant ass you're being," she backed up. "Hey at least this looks real to anyone watching because I am pretty fucking pissed off with you right now Jon."

He grabbed her wrist and dragged her in, his mouth finding hers like a radar. His hands shot up into her hair and he tugged the ponytail free. She jerked and her hands pressed against his chest, her fingers dug into his skin. Peppermint burned between them, his tongue wanting more. He cupped her jaw, tilted her head and she opened for him. The breath between them melted as she rose on her tip toes. His hands slid down her back and over her perfect ass, his cock snug against her thigh. She groaned, he stumbled two steps back and blinked. The slap of hand to cheek stung him like a knife.

"Fuck, what the hell was that for?" He palmed his cheek and stared at her.

She smoothed her dress down and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "You're not kissing yourself out of this one Bongiovi."

"Well well, isn't this a pleasant gathering?" His eyes flicked over his shoulder as the man rounded the building, his boots thumped like bullets on the deck.

MacKenzie whirled around and backed up against Jon, "What do you want?"

Jon felt his stomach sink as the man casually opened his jacket, the bare blade of his knife caught in the sun.

He pulled his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and pointed them at Jon, "Care for one?"

"Don't," she hissed under her breath.

Well fucking duh, he wasn't about to take anything from knife guy. If he tried anything it would have to be quick, anyone could walk out here and break the confrontation. Whether that was a good thing, or knife guy would just go crazy. His veins pumped with ice, as MacKenzie's ass pressed up against him.

"What do you want? We were just enjoying the view."

The man chuckled, he was at least six foot, clear Puerto-Rican descent and it was clear this was not a coincidence. "I've come to deliver a message."

"Oh?" MacKenzie's hand poised on her thigh.

"My boss would like to invite you both to come and see him, for a little chat."

Jon's eyes widened behind his lenses and his hand rested on the small of her back. He trusted her, he had to believe she knew how to handle this as he sure the fuck didn't.

"We're not going anywhere."

He sneered, "your call. You can do this the easy way, or the hard way."

"How about the cops way, I can call them right now." Her voice never wavered, she stood upright and confident, how, he'd never know. He was a coward standing behind her, and this was one of the most humble moments of his life.

"Lady, you are the cops. Why don't you reach for your gun? Oh wait," he turned around to the wall of glass where people were lunching, completely unaware what was unfolding out here. "We don't want to create a scene now, do we?" He nodded to Jon, "that wouldn't be a good look for Rock-star over here."

His heart thumped as his face flashed through his mind. He was the guy in the car, the day he was nearly hit at the studio. Oh god. Reality was unfolding, and all he could think about was that the only thing standing between a crazy gang member and his safety, was the woman he was in love with.

He clenched as the guy took two steps forward, and Mackenzie froze, ready to pounce. "She's got your balls as well as your dignity huh?"

"Tell your boss, if he wants to talk to us, he can talk to me," MacKenzie said evenly.

The waves that lapped at the edge of the wharf were the only sound above the pulse in his ears, this was it. In ten seconds, this guy could seriously injure someone. He swallowed, even kill someone.

He towered over MacKenzie and covered her hand on her thigh as she reached, "You don't want to know how that ends pig. I'm giving you one more chance, wait for the call on where to meet him and I swear to god if you come with more than just yourselves, or don't come at all..."

In forty seven years of his life, Jon would never forget eyes of steel that burned through his. "Or you and your children won't see Christmas."

Acid bubbled in his throat, and the guy doubled over as Mackenzie's knee connected with his balls. "Run, get to the car." She shoved him forward, he lost his footing but regained composure quickly as she dragged him around the building out to the front where the cars were waiting. She yanked open the door and pushed him in, slamming the door behind him. The red leather interior blurred as she demanded the driver to get the hell out of here. She clicked on her Blackberry and held it to her ear, the world spun as he pressed his cheek against the seat and clutched his belly, still swirling with shock. He caught parts of her conversation, but the rest was jumbled sentences as the car rolled away.

"David, it's Mac. I need the surveillance team to scan all cars near the yacht club-"

"No we're not hurt, he's OK."

"The kids, get a status on the family for me."

He wanted to tell her he recognized the guy, from the hit and run but he couldn't find words. He sunk into the seat, rested his cheek against leather and waited for the world to stop spinning.