The Brit

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  Danny’s stunned. It’s not a look that suits him. But it tells me that he comprehends the true gravity of my situation. He comprehends the real risk I’m willing to take to be with him. He comprehends that I need his help. “I’m here,” he says simply, like he is the answer to all my troubles.

  “Can you find my son? Protect him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you protect me?”

  He sits up on his knees, pulling me up to straddle his naked lap. Both of his hands start in my hair and stroke their way down to the small of my back. “I can protect you from anything, Rose.” He rubs his nose with mine. “Except me.”

  My smile is small as I slip my arms under his and cling to him, keeping our eyes together. “I’m not scared of you, Danny Black,” I whisper, quiet but sure, as I push my lips to his, feeding off the heat that our touching mouths create.

  His low moan is packed with an appetite I’m desperate to feed. “I won’t rest until I have justice for you,” he murmurs. “Your dreams will be happy, I promise you.” Breaking our kiss, he looks at me with serious eyes. There’s a need in them. A need for vengeance. “Where was this hostel?”

  “The east side of town. I can’t remember exactly.”

  “And what happened? Tell me everything.”

  He wants more. Not just how I came to be me, but everything in between. I swallow, looking away, and Danny nudges me.

  “Everything, Rose.”

  I dig deep for the strength I need. “After I was given to Nox, he took me to Romania. I was young, still growing into my body. He used me for himself for a few years. Then when I was eighteen, he took me to a charity event. The Romanian president at the time was there. Nox saw the way he looked at me.” I swallow. “It was so easy to get what he wanted. So, so easy. And when he gave me a picture of my son as a reward, it became easier. Nox brought me back to the States a few years ago.”

  “The man’s name?” Danny pushes, his jaw about ready to snap. “The one who gave you to Nox?”

  I shake my head. “They only ever called him sir.”

  Danny’s frustration is clear. “Do you remember anything, Rose? Anything at all that could lead me to him?”

  I look away, racking my mind. “His ring. A horrible snake thing with evil green eyes that he wore on his little finger.” The flashback of that dreaded ring sends a shudder through me, so much so, I jerk on Danny’s lap. Only when I settle and toss the image away do I realize he’s trembling too. I shoot my eyes to his. He looks like he’s in a trance, staring straight through me. White as a sheet. “Danny?”

  He shakes himself back to life, but his eyes dart. “A ring?” he murmurs, a million lines creasing his forehead. “When did this happen?”

  “Ten years ago,” I murmur, wondering where that time went. It’s a blur of sex, abuse, and despair.

  “And you’ve been with Nox since?”

  I nod, remembering his face when I was handed over. I knew evil when I saw it. I knew in that moment my life was over.

  “Anything else?”

  I shake my head, my frown giving Danny’s a run for its money. “Are you okay?”

  Disappearing into my neck, he hugs me fiercely. “It’s hard to hear. And that’s a deplorable thing for me to admit when you’re the one who’s been through it.”

  “It hurt me when you shared your past too,” I say to ease him, though it’s nothing but the truth. Between the two of us, we’ve seen and experienced horrific shit, and that has molded us into the people we are today. Twisted people. Now we can be twisted together. But he needs to know why I bailed on him when his house was attacked. He needs to know I wasn’t leaving him, but had simply lost all hope. “When I let go of your hand, when I wanted to die, it wasn’t that I didn’t want you. It was because I couldn’t see a way out. A way for us. A way to keep my son safe. I didn’t want anything to happen to you. All I’d brought was destruction and danger and—”

  “Rose?” Danny says, my name hot against the flesh of my neck. “Our future together will make up for our torrid pasts.”

  I smile, though I’m not sure that Danny can be right. There will always be an empty space within me. I will always wonder where my son is and how he’s doing. And in a sick way, I will miss my place in Nox’s world, because there will be no pictures anymore. There will be no rewards. “He doesn’t want me to have a future. I’m his property. He owns me.”

  Danny releases me and pushes me to my back on the bed, settling on his side beside me. “He is dead.” A delicate fingertip draws a straight line between my breasts to my belly button and circles carefully, stemming the bullets of ice that broke out as a result of his promise. “This time next week, there will be no Nox.”

  Such a lethal vow shouldn’t comfort me. It shouldn’t fill me with peace and hope. But it does.

  I might never meet my flesh and blood, but at least he’ll be safe. Finally safe.

  I glance down my body to his hand on my tummy. Gifted hands. Killing hands. My life is in them.

  I turn and push him to his back, climbing on top of him and reaching for his arousal, stroking it a few times to full hardness. His arms splay limply on the pillow above his head, and he exhales as I sink down slowly onto him. Each inch I take, more peace finds me, until I’m flung into bliss that only Danny can help me find. I’m once again immune to the feelings my cruel existence has dealt me. There’s no despair, only hope. There’s no suffering, only gratification. There’s no loss, only gain. There is only Danny.

  And belonging to him is the best thing that could happen to me.

  Chapter 23

  DANNY

  * * *

  With every advance into her body, I battled to find the calm I needed and not let the fuel fan the flames of my rage. I didn’t want my soft and careful taking of her to turn into a brutal fuck. I forced myself to control the primal, animalistic need to reinforce to her, to me, to everyone, that she belongs to me. She panted down into my face, small, delicate wisps of air that added another layer to the heat burning me from the inside out. Her whimpers of my name held a need that physically pained me. My vulnerable, fragile warrior. She doesn’t need to be strong anymore. But I want her to be.

  When my climax hit, the earth moved, and Rose exploded above me on a cry that momentarily dented my anger and realigned my focus on her. I watched her face twist with pleasure. I suppressed my own roar, gritting my teeth, just so I could hear her nonsensical mumbles. I pulled her down and ran my nose through the glistening sweat on her neck, inhaling it in, feeding myself with everything I could get from her.

  My life changed irrevocably in a heartbeat. Now I have two purposes.

  Revenge.

  And loving Rose.

  I kissed her sleepy eyelids and let her settle into my side. She was asleep within five minutes, breathing softly and serenely. Breaking away from her warm curves felt like ripping our skin apart, but I forced myself, pulling on some boxers and leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

  And that’s where I am now, still with my back to the wall outside her room, struggling to get my shakes under control and any decent amount of oxygen past the ball of fury blocking my airways. I can’t fucking breathe. I sink to my arse and hold my pounding head in my hands, wrestling with the sway of my chaotic thoughts.

  Abduction.

  Rape.

  Babies.

  Human trafficking.

  A serpent ring.

  A fucking serpent ring. Rose’s life was cruelly given to Nox Dimitri by a man with a serpent ring. In a deal.

  I push out air and force myself to my feet, taking a moment to ensure some stability before making my way to my office. I slam the door behind me and take the picture of my father out of the drawer, my eyes falling to his little finger. I always hated that ring. Now?

  I swallow, my head in fucking chaos.

  “There you are,” Brad says once he’s barged in. “We found Adams. He’ll be here any sec—”

  “Hav
e you ever wanted out?” I cast my eyes across to him, and he balks, stepping back. My rage must be embedded into my skin for the world to see.

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” I say, returning my attention to my father.

  “Never really thought about it.”

  “Well, think now,” I counter shortly. “If you could get out, would you?”

  “Danny, I don’t like what—”

  “Answer my question, Brad.” My patience is thin at best. “Would you get out if you could?”

  “I . . . shit, Danny, I don’t fucking know.” Out the corner of my eye, I see his arms launch into the air in exasperation. “Anyway, isn’t it a moot point?” He joins me at my desk, pointing at the picture in my hand. “He left his legacy to you. His power, his reputation. You have an obligation to keep it all alive.”

  “I thought so too,” I say, shoving the photo back in the drawer and slamming it. “But my obligations have shifted.”

  “The woman,” Brad sighs.

  “She’s opened my eyes in more ways than one.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Danny.”

  “I want out.” I make the statement and watch Brad close his eyes as if to gather strength.

  “You don’t just walk away from this life.”

  “Who says?”

  He almost laughs. “The dozens of assholes who want you dead, that’s who. You think after what we’ve done we can retire and live out our days pretending we haven’t bludgeoned hundreds of men?”

  “They all deserved to die,” I grate.

  “Agreed. But there is always someone who doesn’t agree. Don’t lose perspective over a bit of ass.”

  I only just hold back my fist from sinking into his face. “She didn’t tip off the FBI.”

  “You said. So who did?”

  I ignore his question. “Call the Russians. Tell them I’ll meet them tomorrow.” I settle in the chair. “That’ll be all.”

  His shock is clear at my dismissal. “Dan—”

  There’s a knock at the door, and Ringo pops his head round. “Adams.”

  I nod. “That will be all,” I reiterate tightly to Brad, my stare a laser beam of threat. He backs out of my office, uncomfortable and unsure, as Ringo more or less tosses Adams in.

  The man looks utterly beaten. “You’ve been on vacation, Perry. I expected you to look more chilled out.”

  He closes his eyes in despair. “Can I sit?”

  “Sure.” I point to the chair opposite my desk. “You look like you need it.”

  He flops down on an almighty sigh, his fingers digging into his eye sockets, rubbing hard. “Let’s get this over with,” he says, opening his eyes and looking at me.

  “Rose was planted on you.”

  He balks. “Of course she wasn’t.”

  The stupid fuck. Seven years of fucking college, twenty years working as a lawyer. He’s done nothing but disappoint me at every turn. And he’s the most popular candidate for the next mayor of Miami? He’s not capable of organizing a fucking piss up in a brewery. How did I not see that? That he’d eventually be useless to me. “Does the name Nox Dimitri ring any bells?”

  “What? No, no, it doesn’t. Should it?”

  “Romanian. Descendant of the Romanian mafia. He’s shaking things up and reforming. He’s the guy who’s been blackmailing you.” I get up and start pacing my office. “He’s following in his father’s footsteps. We’re talking women trafficking, drugs, rape, and selling babies on the black market, to name a few of his inherited areas of expertise.”

  “What?” Adam’s gasps.

  For the first time this morning, I laugh under my breath. “Yes, he makes me look like a law-abiding citizen, right?” I reach up and pinch my nose. “He wants me dead.”

  “Then why does he want your marina too?”

  “To start up a scuba diving business,” I reply dryly. “You dumb fuck, Adams. He wants the most secluded part of the coast to ship women into the fucking country. He gets the best of both worlds. Me dead, and the perfect route into the country. He planted Rose on you to get intel on me. He knew you were dealing with me.”

  “The little bitch!”

  There goes my last thread of sanity. I launch myself across my office to him, just holding myself back from kicking his head in. He sits back in his chair, wary. “Don’t push me, Adams,” I seethe. “I already want your death to be slow.”

  “She really has got under your skin, hasn’t she?”

  “It’s not that simple.” I push myself away and return to my chair.

  “Wait,” Adams says abruptly. “My contact, he referred to his partner. I don’t think he’s working alone. There’s someone else.

  “There was someone else, yes.”

  “Was? What do you mean, was?”

  I look at the drawer where my father’s picture is kept. “He’s dead,” I declare with the finality it deserves. I refocus on Adams and what I need to do. “Now, are you going to listen to me, because there’s something you can do that might change my mind about murdering your corrupt arse?”

  “If you don’t kill me, he will.”

  “Not if I kill him first.”

  “What?”

  “You heard. You can continue your campaign trail. The photos of you and Rose disappear. Your debt with me will be wiped clean.”

  “The money? I won’t owe you?”

  “If you pull off what I’m about to ask, then yes. You get your life back and you don’t owe me. And for fuck’s sake, stop cheating on your wife. Are you listening?”

  There’s just a slight pause. “Yes. Yes, I’m listening.”

  “Good, because I’m your only hope.”

  * * *

  After I finished detailing exactly how Adams was going to redeem himself, I made a few more calls to various significant people, my accountant included. I hang up and breathe out, staring at the ceiling. I thought I knew everything. In fact, I know nothing. Enlightenment seems to have rained down, pelting me with purpose. Everything seems to make perfect sense to me now, even if it’s hard to grasp. How can you be in this world for twenty years, think you know every depraved thing there is to know, and, actually, know nothing at all? How is it possible I had no fucking idea?

  As I wander to the kitchen, I take a call from Uncle Ernie, nodding sharply to Esther as I start to make a pot of coffee. “Morning.”

  “Still alive, then?”

  “I’m immortal, Ernie.”

  He laughs, the laugh that throws me back to my younger days when Pops and Uncle Ernie used to share cigars and brandy on the terrace. “We should do dinner,” I say, the suggestion sounding odd, but I need to see him. Talk to him.

  “We should.” Ernie’s easy agreement makes me relax somewhat. “Your father would want us to stay close. I never had kids myself. You and Brad are the closest I’ve got, and my asshole cousin will haunt me forever if we lose touch.”

  I falter in my motions before carefully setting two cups on the tray. “Tomorrow evening?”

  “My place. It’s private.”

  Private. Good, because what I’m going to say needs to remain private. “Looking forward to it.” I hang up and brace my hands on the edge of the counter for a few seconds, thinking. Logic tells me I’m chasing a rainbow. Hope tells me I deserve respite from this world. Guilt slivers through my veins, my father’s voice chasing it. He can go fuck himself.

  I collect the tray and make my way upstairs. Rose is still snoozing, splayed on her front with the sheets covering her legs, the material finishing just shy of her arse. I smile and set down the tray as quietly as possible, easing myself down gently to the edge of the bed. Her arms are stretched above her head, buried under the pillow where her head rests. Blush lips parted, thick black lashes fanning her lids, a flushed glow painting her cheeks, her hair strewn all over the pillow. I touch the space between her shoulder blades and draw a perfectly straight, light line down her spine, following my path with my eyes until I reach the two cute di
mples above her arse. I circle each lightly, flattening my palm and ghosting over the area that’s now tinged yellow from the fading bruise. I blink back the sting of rage that makes my eyes water, making myself enjoy this moment of silently admiring what is now mine. How? How the fuck did she survive so many years of torture? Her life wasn’t all that different to mine, yet I had someone step in and provide solace, a home, a purpose. Even if it stands for shit now. She was shafted from such an early age and never rescued. Always living a nightmare. Always in fear and pain. And yet, she gave the terrifying Angel-faced Assassin cheek from the minute she met me. Stood up to me. Didn’t flinch. A survivor. And I’m going to make her a victor. Because it’s about fucking time she won.

  Supporting my upper body with my fists sunken into the mattress, I lower and rest my mouth on one of the dimples, kissing it lightly, before trailing my lips across to the other, looking up when I hear a soft, sleepy moan. I smile to myself and reposition my body, straddling her upper thighs and dusting every inch of her back with my mouth. She smells like me, my scent ingrained into her skin, mixed with her own natural fragrance. It’s a heady mix, a cocktail of fucked-up perfection. Me and her. Her back starts to roll each time my mouth meets her flesh, and I reach for her hair, pulling it aside to expose her neck.

  She chose me.

  And now I have to ensure that she didn’t make the wrong choice. The wheels have been set in motion, my next moves meticulously planned, though I’m still operating on gut instinct. Have been since this woman charged into my life.

  Lowering my chest onto her back, I lay one arm by her head and slip my other hand under her tummy, sliding it down until I feel the dark strip of hair just north of the gates to heaven. Her arse lifts, giving my hand space, and her tongue slips out and glides across her lips, wetting them. My fingers meet hot, swollen flesh. My lips part, as do Rose’s legs, giving my fingers room, as well as my cock. My taut, aching flesh disappears between her thighs, and with one slight shift, I sink inside of her, my fingers scissoring and working as I lazily pump back and forth. Her sigh is peaceful, and I catch it when she turns her face as far to the side as she can, dragging her eyes open. My body hums with pleasure, tingles erupting with every careful stroke. The feel of her welcoming me into her body, pulling me in, her walls drawing me deeper, surpasses ecstasy. Her drowsy gaze screams a thousand words. We’re both from worlds where actions speak loudest, and never more than now. The drives of my hips and the massaging of my fingers keep us balanced on the edge. Sweat is beading, blood is boiling, heartbeats are thrashing. The wild edge to her eyes kicks my pace up a notch. She’s on the cusp. Her arms come from under the pillow, her torso lifting as much as she can, one arm supporting her, the other coming back and circling my neck. She tugs me down to her lips and cries into my mouth when my hips buck. My eyes close and my mind channels, the images jumping through all chaotic yet beautiful. All Rose.