Page 28 of Beautiful Soldier

“There was a girl down the road when I was six. I pecked her cheek.”

“No, no, no. Real kiss. With tongue.”

He groans. “Why don’t we just say that my kiss with you—with tongue—was the first one I’ve ever really enjoyed.”

He full-on distracts me then, moving in to cover my mouth with his, sending sparks of electricity through me as he claims my lips over and over again until I can’t even remember the boy’s name who pissed me off when I was thirteen.

11

Murmuring seeps into my consciousness. I extend my legs out on the bed, stretching like a cat, working the kinks out from the turtle position I’d been sleeping in.

Silence fills the room, which is odd, since I’m sure I heard something loud enough to wake me.

I make myself relax, tucking the pillow back under my head. Magnum fell asleep in the corner chair again. Maybe he talks in his sleep, even though I doubt he even falls asleep. The guy must be working on zero hours. Guilt coats my sleepy haze. I shouldn’t have asked him to stay here again.

The whispers start back up, and this time, I’m sure of it. I listen in case Magnum does talk in his sleep, curious if he’s dreaming about me. He’s starred in a few of my dreams, so at least we could call it even if that’s the case.

My heart freezes in my chest when another voice joins his. I suck in a breath, but I stop myself from reacting even further. Johnny’s here. Not on the phone, in my head, or staring back at me from a computer screen, he’s in this room. I’m sure of it.

“Thank you for watching her,” he says.

“She’s special,” Mag whispers, and my heart squeezes at his words.

I lay there dreamily. If I wasn’t positive they were actually having this conversation, I wouldn’t believe it. Last time Johnny caught someone in the same room with me alone, he beat the shit out of him. Now, Magnum is legit in my bedroom, and Johnny is thanking him. Mag even called me special, and so far, Johnny hasn’t reacted to his words.

“I would’ve been back before…”

“Don’t even mention it,” Mag says. “We know. We get it.”

Johnny sighs. The edge of the bed depresses, and I bite my lip. “Shit’s all fucked up.” The somber, edgy tone in his voice makes me want to wrap my arms around him, but I don’t want to give myself away yet. Plus, if he’s finding someone to open up too, that’s even better. He and Magnum have been close. I don’t know if they’ve ever had a relationship where they talk about shit, but Johnny needs those kinds of people in his life. People he can talk to about anything without repercussions. “I thought I was going to lose her, man. It was worse than her dying because at least then I would know she could never be around. But being sent to prison? She’d be alive, but we couldn’t have the relationship we both deserve. Even worse is knowing that I put her there.”

The chair Magnum is seated on creaks. “You know you can tell me shit, right? We came into the Crew at the same time, that makes us brothers. I mean this respectfully, but I don’t give a shit if you’re K’s son, I supportyou. You don’t have to isolate yourself on the way to the top.”

I hold my breath, waiting for Johnny’s reaction as my mind swims. If Johnny and Mag joined the Crew at the same time, how come they’re not closer than they are? They took two different ways, but even so, Magnum’s right. They should be more like brothers.

“It’s hard to put into words,” Johnny says, frustration lacing his voice. “Dad thinks all the Marx’s need are each other.”

“But then he hits you.”

“Don’t fucking say it out loud,” Johnny seethes.

“She’s not dumb,” Mag says, voice lowering. “I noticed her expression when she saw you on the video.”

“I’m not weak.”

“No one said you are. No one will fucking say you are.”

“I just have to do better,” Johnny says, as if the bodyguard isn’t even responding to him. Magnum’s trying to pull him into a conversation, but it’s as if he’s only responding to himself.

Mag sighs. “I’m not suredoing better,in the way you’re proposing, will help Kyla.” The chair creaks again. “I’m only saying this because I know how you feel about her. Your dad’s not going to like it if she pulls you away from him. You’ve got to be smart about this. You’ve got—”

“I know,” Johnny growls.

Well, that’s my cue to act as if I’ve just woken up.

I sit up on the bed, the sheets pooling at my waist. Johnny looks over his shoulder at me, and the joy that surges couldn’t possibly be faked. I don’t care that he has a black eye his father gave him because he’s a soulless, unforgiving bastard. I don’t care that he’s attached to the system that took my parents. Because Johnny is Johnny, and despite all that shit, there’s a real man under his Crew armor.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

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