by Ella Miles
I have to time this just right. I have to wait until the helicopter has descended far enough down that it is safe for me to jump, but not wait too long so that Julian has gained control again and started ascending.
I stare at the dark ocean beneath me getting closer with each second. I know we need to be at least 200 feet in order for me to jump safely and have a good chance at survival.
Just a little lower.
Come on.
I glance up, but all I can see is the bottom of the helicopter. I have no idea what is happening inside. I don’t know how close Julian is to getting control of the helicopter.
So close. Just…
The helicopter starts yanking up. This is my chance.
I’ll do anything to keep Siren safe. Including risking my own life.
I let go.
Falling, having no idea if I’m close enough to the water to safely jump, but I risk it.
I don’t have a choice.
If I don’t jump, if I don’t do everything I can to protect Siren, I might as well die. Siren is my only reason for living.
The three-second fall seems to last a lot longer. In that time, I think about everything.
Every sin Siren and I have committed against each other.
Every sin we’ve committed for each other.
I think about our unborn child.
Cayden.
He has Siren’s eyes. And my chin.
He has the name of a hero. A name that gives him the power to fight.
Siren and I haven’t talked names, and I don’t even know if the child she carries is a boy or a girl. But the name is clear in my mind when I hit the water.
It’s clear when I sink twenty feet under the water.
It’s clear when I kick my legs, propelling my body up.
It’s clear when I take a deep breath after I crack the surface.
Cayden.
The name means fighter.
He’s my fighter.
If fighting to protect Siren wasn’t enough, now I have a second reason. I may not be strong enough to protect everyone—Siren, my son, and my extended family. But my son is. Siren is.
I’ll do everything I can to protect them—everything.
2
Siren
I stand on the deck, watching the helicopter fly away with Zeke and the devil. I’m left with a man who might be worse than the devil.
“Come on,” Bishop says.
I laugh at his craziness. “Just like that, huh? You think you can control me because you’ve fucked with my head. Given me endless nightmares. You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Yes, you will. You’ll have to drug me. Tie me up. Because unless you are taking me to go after my husband, I’m not coming with you.”
“Your husband, huh?”
I frown, folding my arms over my chest as I glare at Bishop, flashing him my wedding ring.
Bishop doesn’t react. “So sure of your love. So sure of his.” It’s not a question. He says it because he knows it’s how I feel. He’s mocking me, acting like I shouldn’t be sure about anything, definitely not my love for Zeke and his love for me.
We stare at each other in an unspoken standoff.
“Have I ever hurt you, Siren?”
“Yes.”
“You sure about that?” His brows raise, and a wicked grin flicks across his lips.
What is he getting at? Have I imagined everything he’s done to me?
I try to think, but as soon as I do, my head clouds. The more I think about what Bishop did, the foggier it gets.
“You hurt me. You tortured me. You fucked with my head.”
Bishop nods. “If you are sure…”
He’s playing games. Don’t fall for it. He’s fucking with my head. I need to do the same back.
“How could you do it? How could you betray your best friend?”
He gets in my face. A gentle rage flows from his body as he crowds me, but doesn’t touch me. “How could you betray the man you love?”
I suck in a breath.
My world spins on its axis. Have I judged Bishop wrongly this whole time? Has he just been doing what he had to do to survive? To keep us safe? To make Julian think he was on his side? Or is he manipulating me now to get what he wants? To get me to go with him without a fight?
“Who are you?”
“You already know.” Tension leaves him as he speaks.
“Are you Bishop or Langston?”
His lips thin, and he turns, walking away from me as he heads inside the yacht.
I follow.
He goes into the bridge, starts the engines, and starts driving us away. I don’t try to stop him.
“Are you good or evil?”
He chuckles. “Really? What are we, five? You of all people know there is no such thing as a person being all good or all evil.”
I do, but I also know that every person still thinks of themselves as all good or all evil. Good people sometimes do bad things, and evil people sometimes do good. But in our deepest hearts, we all see ourselves as one or the other.
How does Bishop see himself?
He isn’t going to tell me, at least not right now.
“Where are we going?”
“Where do you think?”
I shrug. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what to think of you.”
“We are going to get the box with the vials of cancer virus and cure in it.”
I frown.
“No.”
“You’re not the one in charge. You won’t be making the decisions. All the decisions you made were wrong anyway.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You working for Julian and hurting Zeke—it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing a person does if they love someone.”
My blood boils. I charge at him.
“How dare you!” I hit him. I meant to just slap him, but it becomes a punch. I don’t think about all the reasons I shouldn’t be punching him. I just punch. I fight. How dare he question my love for Zeke! He has no idea how hard it was. No idea what I’ve done to save Zeke.
“I love Zeke with everything! Everything I’ve done has been to protect him! Don’t you understand that? The only two men I’ve ever made a vow to were my ex-husband and Zeke. I promised Julian everything to keep Zeke alive. Julian can’t kill Zeke!”
Bishop grabs my wrists, stopping me from throwing another punch. It dawns on me that he never punched me back. He never stopped me. He took every punch. He let me hurt him.
Why?
Who is Langston Bishop? I doubt Bishop is Langston’s last name. Zeke and Kai and Enzo would have gotten suspicious at the first mention of Bishop’s name if so. But in my head, this man standing in front of me is both Langston and Bishop. Both good and bad. More bad than good, but there is a part of him that was once good. A part that was once loyal to Enzo Black. To Kai Black. To Zeke Kane.
I just have to find that man again.
Who are you? I think as I stare up at the man still gripping my wrists with force, but not hard enough to hurt me, just enough to prevent me from hitting him again.
“A man you are going to have to trust if you want to survive this,” he answers.
I thought I asked the question in my head, but apparently not. That, or he can now read my thoughts.
I jerk my wrists out of his. “There is no way I’ll ever trust a man who has hurt me.”
Langston Bishop looks at me with a stern gaze. Somehow he seems taller, his shoulders broader, his intensity deeper. Zeke is a giant among men. Langston’s blonde hair, fair skin, and slimmer build make me think he was once the light. The casual man. The playboy, if I understood correctly from everyone’s stories about him.
Right now, Langston Bishop is the opposite of light. He’s darkness.
But so are you, Siren…
He shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes at me, pretending to not care whet
her or not I trust him, but it’s a front. The darkness, the pain is covering something deeper. It could be darker, more evil than the shield he’s wearing like armor, or it could be the light that he long ago buried.
He shakes his head. “This is all your fault, you know?”
I frown. “My fault. Really? I was blackmailed by Julian. Basically sold to him by my ex-husband. I was tortured by you. Raped by Julian. Trust me, none of this is my fault.”
He snickers as if he has a secret so obvious he can’t believe I haven’t realized it yet.
“What?” I ask, needing to understand, needing the truth.
“It doesn’t matter that you didn’t want any of it. Neither did Helen of Troy, and yet a war was fought for her.”
“I’m not Helen of Troy.”
“No, you’re a siren—much more dangerous. You are capable of destroying us all if you wanted to.”
I frown. I agree. I could hurt them all. Kill them all. I know how powerful I can be when I’m angry. I know the depths I will go if I’m pushed. If I had wanted to kill them all, then they would already be dead.
I was the only one who could have killed Julian Reed in the beginning. Instead, I found a different way to save Zeke, and in the end, it could cost us all our lives.
“Which is why I’m glad you’re on my team,” Langston Bishop says, turning back toward the helm, and we start moving again.
“I’m not on your team.”
“Yes, you are. We all want the same thing—the box. Whoever has it wins the war. I know you wouldn’t have chosen me as your partner. Trust me, you are the last person I would have chosen as well, but this is where the cards lay. We all go after the box. Julian and Zeke, Kai and Enzo, you and me. Once we win, then we can figure out which of us gets to use it.”
“I’m not on your side. And I’m not going to help you steal the box. It belongs to Kai and Enzo.”
“You’ll help because you love him. There is no way you won’t help.”
Langston Bishop doesn’t believe me. He’s going to drag me into the middle of a fight I have no business being in. I can’t fight when I have another life to worry about.
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m not.”
“I’m pregnant.”
Langston cuts the engine at my words and slowly turns to face me with shock on his face. His brain is working into overdrive, trying to figure out what to do with this information—with me.
“Who knows?” he asks, staring down at my stomach, and trying to figure out how he missed the swell of my stomach before.
“Everyone.”
His teeth grind together. I don’t know why it matters who knows. Everyone knowing is a good thing. It means that only the cruelest would attack a pregnant woman, and I’m not even sure Julian is that evil.
“Julian?” he asks.
I shrug. “I doubt it unless Zeke told him.”
Langston Bishop’s eyes move side to side as he thinks. “Good, make sure to keep it that way.”
“Why? Why does it matter if Julian knows?”
“Because he’ll either try to claim it as his own or kill it.” His words are solemn like it hurts him to say them, which confuses me even more. He turns back and starts moving us away again.
He doesn’t order me around.
He doesn’t tell me what to do.
He said we were teammates.
I’m more confused than ever.
I need to remember everything that Langston Bishop has done to me. I need to remember how he fucked with my head. I need him to fix me. I need to run and hide until the danger is over.
I brush my hand over my stomach, where my baby resides. It still doesn’t feel real.
I will protect my baby with my life. But Langston Bishop is right; there is no way I’m going to stay out of this fight. Not when Zeke’s life is on the line.
3
Kai
I hit the water minutes after Zeke shoots Enzo. I already know the outcome before I jump into the water. I know—I feel Enzo’s vibration the second my body hits the water. I may have a strange, unreal connection with Zeke, but my connection with Enzo is otherworldly.
Enzo Black is my husband, my best friend, the father of my children. He’s the strongest man I know—a man who is strong despite having an equally strong wife who technically holds more power than him.
We’ve always been able to take down our enemies together. As long as we are together, we are strong. Unstoppable. Together we win. But apart, that’s when we lose. Being together isn’t about being physically together. Being together is about sharing our hearts. Enzo and I share one heart, one set of lungs, one of everything. We are one person in two bodies.
Despite the pain and turmoil it seems we have caused each other, this is far from the worst day of our lives. This doesn’t even scratch the surface.
Our greatest enemies are our friends. Those who love us, also have that one special person that they love more. That they have to protect above everything else. That’s when our lives are at risk.
Which is why we’re prepared—for everything. Even the greatest betrayal.
It doesn’t ease the anxiety ripping through my chest and taking over my mind. Even though I know the outcome, my anxiety doesn’t, and it’s the part of me in control. It’s driving me forward, propelling me to swim faster when there is no need.
Finally, the sight I needed to see to crush my anxiety for good comes into view—Enzo.
He’s in the water, floating on his back, looking up at the dark sky.
I take a deep breath and swim toward him. I may have had a temporary moment of anxiety and fear, but I won’t let Enzo see that.
“You’re a good actor,” I say, keeping my voice light and playful when I approach him.
Enzo continues to float on his back for a second longer. My words didn’t startle him. He felt me coming before I spoke. Before the waves my swimming created washed over him, he knew I was coming.
“And you’re a terrible actor,” he says, smirking as he comes to face me.
I pout, hating being terrible at anything. “I am not! Julian thought I was concerned about you dying.”
I try to keep my hands to myself as I tread water instead of checking him out all over like I want to, but the fact that he’s joking with me tells me he’s more than fine—our plan worked.
Enzo smiles at me as his hand brushes my hair from my face, finally giving me the touches I’m desperately craving.
“I’m not talking about then. I’m talking about now,” he says.
I shudder. “I’m not acting.”
“Yes, you are. You’re pretending you are strong. That you were one hundred percent certain that our plan worked and you just calmly swam over here. When in truth, the second you started acting in front of Julian, your anxiety hit a new level, and you couldn’t squash it. Even though you knew deep down that I would be fine, your anxiety took over, and you’re afraid and pissed and need me.”
I scowl at him. But of course, he’s right.
“Yes, I fucking need you! You’re my husband, my everything. And I had a full-on panic attack swimming to you that I would find your corpse instead of finding you relaxedly floating on your back. I—“
Enzo’s lips crash down on mine. They are desperate, hungry, and tells me I wasn’t the only one acting. I know him letting Zeke push him over the edge of the yacht was hard, because it meant he left me unprotected.
Apart we are vulnerable—together, we are unstoppable.
His tongue pushes into my mouth, and my hands grip his face before sliding down his neck. I need to make sure that he’s okay.
“You’re okay? You’re not hurt?” I ask, before diving in for another kiss. If he isn’t okay, if he’s really hurt, I shouldn’t be kissing him like this. I shouldn’t be stealing all his breaths. But I can’t help myself. I need his kisses. I need to know that we are more than okay.
“Yes. Are you okay?” he asks, his voice deepening into a pro
tective beast that will swim the length of the ocean to kill Julian if I’m hurt.
I grin against his lips. “I just swam a good hundred yards. I’m kissing my husband. I’m good.”
“Thank fuck.”
And then we are kissing and kissing and kissing.
We are still treading water, while our hands confirm what our words said—that we are okay.
I start first, yanking off his shirt that is covered in what I hope is fake blood. Enzo’s hands slink under my shirt, rips apart my bulletproof vest, and then feels the skin over my stomach before cupping my breasts.
I gasp as he does. “I’m fine.”
He smirks. “I know. But I think I need to fuck you to be sure.”
My body heats. God, I need to fuck him. I need to feel connected to him completely. I need to know that the connection we share is still as strong as ever.
“Yes,” the word is a plea, a promise, a cry. I need Enzo inside me. I need to feel connected. I need us to be us again.
No more pretending.
No more acting.
No more lying, scheming, betraying. That’s not who we are. We tell each other the truth. We share everything. And that’s not going to stop now. No matter how we hurt each other.
I kiss him again hard, but we can’t fuck here in the middle of the ocean while treading water. So as much as I want to keep kissing and kissing, we need to stop and come up with a plan to find land or a boat, something.
But before we go anywhere, I need to know…
Enzo growls, seeing the concern etched on my face. I know I got a dozen more gray hairs and a couple more worry lines in the last hour alone.
“Look, I’m fine. The bullet hit the armor and exploded the fake blood bag just like we planned.”
He’s fine.
The bullet didn’t hit him.
The blood is fake.
He was just acting when he wheezed.
He’s just bruised from the impact of the bullet.
Zeke didn’t shoot him.
Zeke is his friend.
He knew.
He knew about the bulletproof vests and jackets.
