I'll Come Running

Chapter 68

Jessie whizzed up to the top floor, uttering things under her breath about wishing that stupid elevator was faster.

As Jessie strutted down the hallways she attempted to compose herself with some slow breaths. Feeling put together enough, she opened the door slowly so as to not disturb the party that was going on in the living room. Despite her best efforts, the door opening did not go unnoticed, and suddenly she was met with the eyes of many men all different ages staring at her. Unlike Rafe, their stares were not ones of contempt, but one of curiosity and even joy.

"There you are, sweetheart!" Rafe exclaimed as he got up from the couch with a glass of whiskey and Coke in his hand. His words were disguised as ones of excitement, although Jessie knew better. He was anything but joyful behind his facade.

"Hi..." Jessie replied as sweetly as possible through a sheepish grin as she was met by the door by her husband who confidently strode over to her in khakis and a button down shirt. The smile on his face was haunting, as she could tell it was clearly fake.

"I was beginning to worry!" Rafe commented as he brought his wife's face up to his with a subtle pull of her jaw with one hand. His touch should have felt soft... maybe even sensual... but it felt stern as he pulled her in for a kiss. She reciprocated, although Rafe could feel the hesitance... no... the fear... on her lips. Their first kiss in days and it should have been filled with love... instead they had to fight the butterflies in their stomach and play the game. Rafe disconnected and looked her in her eyes with a jarring sense of control. "Go get changed." He said simply, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. To the other men it sounded like concern, to her it sounded like a command.

Rafe watched as Jessie rushed over to their room, making sure to give a polite subtle wave to the men on the couch that watched her leave. Rafe could see the dark looks in their eyes that they couldn't hide. He suddenly got possessive over the wife he was locked in a war with.

"Manhattan Mayhem huh?" One of the older gentlemen asked as he sipped on his brandy. He had modest gray facial hair and was dawning a white button up and jeans.

"Yeah, she uh... she's..."

"Part of a gang?" The man finished the obvious sentence for him with a laugh. "I could tell."

"She's not... involved with them anymore so..." Rafe tried to play it cool as he waved off any worries they could have and leaned back against the couch. To convey comfort, he then crossed his leg one over the other and took another sip of his mixed drink.

"Well, that's not necessarily a bad thing son... we might could use some hard asses in a job like ours." Another man spoke up jokingly. This man looked slightly younger than the previous, more clean cut in a suit jacket and jeans. Rafe just decided to take their laughs in stride and hoped that they would forget about the fact that his wife was a rather prestigious gang member. Although he did notice that the third man, the one closest to his and Jessie's age, was quiet about the fact.

Rafe heard the click of their door to reveal his wife in a red silk slip dress that he laid out especially for her. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't indulging himself by wanting her to wear that particular outfit, as it left little to his imagination... and to the others unfortunately. He didn't consider that. However, he was still grateful that she read his message he had left on the bed regarding the outfit. He felt he was owed this considering how much hell she was putting him through the past few days. If she wanted him to forget about his anger... this sure was a great way to do it.