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Double Edged Hearts

Page 4

by Gray, Khardine


  Just like this morning, Alex has his helmet on, but I know it’s him.

  Damn it… I feared this happening all day. Now he’s here, and my brain is a mess. He’s here on top of the Bureau’s building, uncaring where he is.

  Panic makes me continue walking toward my car. I’m tired, and I can’t do this thing with him tonight.

  “Cora… stop and get on the bike,” he says, riding close to me.

  “No, you can’t just show up at my workplace and take me.” I can’t remember the last time I told this man no.

  He stops the bike abruptly and gets off. My heart jumps in my chest when he grabs my arm and yanks me to a stop.

  He takes off his helmet and glowers at me. Those eyes pierce into me, dark and dangerous, holding me in place.

  “Cora, I’m not asking you. I’m telling you,” he says firmly and holds the helmet out for me to take.

  “Where are we going?” I demand.

  “My place.”

  “To do what?”

  The scandalous look he gives me makes a hot blush race over my body. I can’t deny nor ignore it. It’s like a powerful wave of heat, burning me up from the inside out.

  “Doll, what’s the point of asking me a question you already know the answer to? If I tell you there’ll be some talking, would that help?” He smirks, and I hate that I think he’s sexy as the dimple in his left cheek becomes more pronounced. “Get on the bike.”

  He pushes the helmet toward me more forcefully, and I could kick myself and my poor excuse for no willpower when I take it.

  He smiles as he watches me settle it on my head. It’s a smile of victory, the knowledge that I’ll be his again tonight.

  He gets back on the bike, and I climb on too, slipping my arms around his hard body. His chest feels like steel, and the scent of him fills my nose, making me succumb to desire.

  What seals me to it is the gentle flutter of his fingers over mine on his chest. He strokes the top of my palms. It’s the most innocent of touches. A contrast to how we combust when we’re together, but I feel his touch everywhere.

  “Hold on to me, Goddess. You hear me?” he says.

  “Yes,” I answer and frown. “I hate you riding without a helmet.”

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Alex, I’ll be real careful.”

  Mrs. Alex…

  He shouldn’t call me that. I haven’t been that in years and hearing it now makes guilt sweep through me for what I did.

  Before I can take my next breath, he speeds off into the night like a demon out of hell.

  Chapter Four

  Cora

  Alex lives in an actual house now.

  Four years ago, it was a penthouse apartment in the city. Perfect for the playboy billionaire. Now he owns a mansion with a lengthy drive that took us a few minutes to get down before the house rose into view, a beautiful sight that stole my breath away.

  The massive exterior in the moonlight reminded me of something old and European. He’s Italian. So, it doesn’t surprise me if that’s the look he was going for.

  Once inside, I was more impressed with what I saw. The décor is cream and burgundy. It feels like the sophisticated version of him that doesn’t ride around on motorcycles jumping from buildings.

  We moved to the living room. While I walk in to look around, he lingers by the door.

  I turn to see him watching me like a toy he’s brought back to play with. A doll in the dollhouse.

  Moving away from the door frame, he walks into the room and comes right up to me. I step back, but he reaches for my hand and leads me into the kitchen. My hand is swallowed by his. When he releases me, he takes off my jacket and pulls my shirt from the band of my pants.

  “There, you don’t look so fed-like now. You almost look like my girl.” He holds my gaze, and I don’t have the heart to argue.

  It’s the worst thing for me to argue with him and tell him I’m not his girl when I still feel so much like his.

  “I’m still a fed no matter what my clothes say,” I decide to answer.

  “Yeah I can see that, Goddess.” He says with emphasis and runs his gaze over me from head to toe.

  When he tilts his head to the side to give me a cocky smile I’m drawn to the tattoo of the cross on the right side of his neck. All the guys in their crew have one. Together they’re called The Four and they’re known by that mark. A tattoo of a cross for their fallen. Claudius has his inked on his cheek. Alex, Dante and Gio have it inked on their necks.

  I remember Jude having one too. I met them all at the same time and I remember being wary around a bunch of mobsters but feeling like there was something off about Jude. Maybe it was instinct. Turned out I was right.

  Alex regards me with observant eyes. I’m not sure what he’s thinking but I know we have a lot to talk about.

  “How are you?” I ask. The question seems out of context. Displaced even, like remnants of a broken conversation amidst the angst filled tension that surrounds us.

  “Alive and kicking. Can’t complain doll,” he answers. “You know what they say, everyday above ground is something to be grateful for.” His smile deepens but doesn’t reach his eyes.

  That’s the second reference he’s made to death. It shows he was probably thinking about Jude too. It’s expected, the anniversary of his death is next week. I still remember.

  “How about you? Four years looks good on you?” A twinkle sparks in his eyes.

  “Thank you, and I’m okay.”

  “You like the place?” he asks, motioning his hand around.

  “Yeah… it suits you. When did you get it?”

  He takes off his biker jacket and my breath catches at the sight of his T-shirt clinging to his muscles like it was painted on him. He notices my reaction and a little smile dances on his lips.

  “A few months after the last time I saw you. Of course, I thought I’d be seeing you a lot sooner than now.” He raises a curious brow signaling it’s time to have that serious talk. He’s ready.

  He just opened the window of opportunity for me to apologize and explain why I left. Time to lay the cards on the table and confront the elephant in the room.

  We stare at each other and my chest tightens as I think of what to say. He’s waiting for an answer and the insistence of his stare is a tell that he’ll wait all night if he has to. The only thing that comes to my mind is the thing that matters most. My sorrow for what I did.

  “I’m… sorry,” I say, repeating what I said last night.

  “What for? What exactly are you sorry for, Coraline Monroe? That you left me? Or… that you can’t be with me?” An easy smile slides across his face, a contrast to his questions.

  “Both. I’m sorry I left the way I did… It was wrong. ” The only person who can understand why I just had to get gone was Richard. When I got back he was so relieved to see me he forgave me for the worry of having no contact for such a long time.

  “Where did you go, Goddess?”

  “Europe. I went to Europe,” I answer.

  I remember getting on that plane that day feeling like a shell. Like I was just on autopilot, going through the motions but not really there in my mind. I booked a one way ticket to England. That was the first flight I could take to get away. To flee from the truth.

  “I looked for you everywhere for two years,” he confesses and my chest constricts. “Everywhere I could I looked, refusing to believe you died. I thought I’d feel it. I thought that’s how I’d know for sure. I’d feel something. It never happened and the day I found you in LA it hit me that you just didn’t want to be found.”

  Tears sting the backs of my eyes. I didn’t know he went through so much. “You saw me in LA?”

  “Yeah. I guess I’m like a dog waiting for its master to cut him loose. Fortunately, this dog knew when to cut his leash. So I did that day and left you alone. I figured if you wanted to see me you would, eventually.”

  “I’m really sorry.” I sound like a broken record.

 
; “So…you gonna tell me what happened? Put me out of my misery?” That smile comes back to his handsome face.

  I release a slow ragged sigh and glance down at the marble flooring. I don’t have the strength to go down the road of truth tonight but I know I have to tell him something. He deserves to have some form of explanation.

  “I got some news and I had to go away.” That’s the mildest way to put it and the summary in a nutshell.

  “What kind of news?”

  I run a hand through my hair and shake it. “I can’t… I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s the kind of news that makes you want to run away.”

  Worry etches his brows. “You used to run to me.”

  “This was different.”

  I press my lips together and look him over. He’s still the same guy and he’s right. I did used to run to him. But learning the truth about my parents deaths quite literally turned my world upside down.

  That was what it was. Richard came to me with the truth behind how my parents died and with it came the knowledge that if I wanted my life to be different to theirs I couldn’t be with Alex.

  “I shouldn’t have gone to our spot. I was just curious…” My voice trails off. There were several reasons why I went. It wasn’t until after I’d gone that I cursed myself. “Alex, I’m a fed.”

  He straightens up. “Why? To please your uncle? Richard?”

  The question throws me. If there’s anyone who can see straight through me it’s Alex. He knew about Richard from the start. I told him how much Richard wanted me to join the Bureau and how much I didn’t want to.

  “No,” I answer steeling my spine but I sound weak. It’s not surprising. What I said I wanted to do with my life and what I did were two different things.

  “No? I remember you saying that private investigation was the closest thing you could think of that suited your abilities. But you’d be your own boss. You hated being controlled by anybody. Most of all you didn’t want to be a fed. What happened to that girl?”

  “The Bureau is an organization that’s more me,” I decide to say, defensibly.

  “As opposed to what you did before? I’m pretty sure you aren’t getting to make full use of those skills of yours.” He gives me a dubious look.

  “That’s not the point. I’m using my skills for good. That’s the point.” That was exactly the point.

  What I used to do when I hacked computers and did all manner of shit could have landed me behind bars for a very long time. It’s called cybercrime. That was what it was no matter what I wanted to call it.

  No one is supposed to be able to hack any system they want without a trace, no matter what the system is. Nobody is supposed to be able to do that, but I can and I did. Such a thing shouldn’t be allowed, and when I wanted to set up my business I didn’t plan on being legit. Of course I would never work for people who were evil or those deemed to be the worse of the bunch, but I planned to do what was necessary to get a job done, no matter what it took. Almost like a vigilante who used their own methods outside of the law to solve a problem.

  “You did use your skills for good Cora. That’s the way I remember it.” He nods with conviction and I wish he wouldn’t. “Every time my people have needed you, were times when people’s lives were in serious danger. You saved a lot of lives.”

  “I’m saving more lives this way,” I say firmly, although to be honest I haven’t done shit in the way of saving anyone since I became a fed.

  I’ve worked on a number of terrorism investigations and every single one of them have been instances where the criminals have already dealt the blow of death to hundreds. Sure, I’ve stopped the perpetrators and their either dead or behind bars, but I don’t have the satisfaction of knowing I helped because the damage has already been done.

  “What are you trying to do? Are you going to convince me that I shouldn’t be a fed?” I throw back. I can’t have this conversation with him. I wrestle with my career as much as I wrestle with my feelings for him practically every day. It’s an ongoing cycle.

  “No… I’m not going to tell you to stop being a fed if that’s what you want to do,” he answers.

  Annoyance fills me. I hate that he put it that way—if that’s what I want to do…“If I didn’t want to be a fed, I wouldn’t be,” I throw back.

  “You can tell yourself whatever you want. I’m not going to mess with whatever that pretty little head of yours is telling you in regards to your chosen career. That’s for you to decide. I won’t be a bastard and tell you to stop being who you want to be.”

  “So, what are you going to tell me?”

  “I don’t want you on this case, Cora. That’s what I’m going to tell you,” he answers shocking me. “Matvey is a very dangerous man.”

  My skin heats, and I bite down hard on my back teeth. “That’s classified information. You shouldn’t know about Matvey.”

  “Fuck classified, and fuck what I should know and shouldn’t know. If you’re doing something dangerous, I’m going to tell you. He’s dangerous.”

  “Aren’t you all?” I counter.

  “Cora, don’t piss with me. You know what I mean.”

  “Do you know him? Is he one of your friends?” I’m so enraged that he checked on me like that, that I don’t care what I’m saying.

  “No… I don’t know him. But I know enough, and I don’t want you working on this case. Whatever reason brought him here is not something you or your team can stop. He’ll have help in high places.”

  My blood runs cold. “What do you mean?”

  He sighs with frustration. “Doll… this is Chicago. You don’t know this city like I do. You people don’t know what you’re up against. He’s here to do some shit that’s above you. And rest assured he’s going to be working with someone high up. A guy like that always is.”

  These are all the worries that have already raced through my mind. We knew someone hired him. That’s the way arms dealers work. They’re always on a job. It goes without saying that the person or people who hired him would have serious money, but Alex’s suggestion of someone high up means a little more than that.

  He’s suggesting it’s someone with some sort of notable control and authority or wealth. It’s not unusual for a case of this nature to involve political figures, or people of that caliber. It’s not something I should rule out. Given that Matvey crossed the sea unnoticed and only happened to get caught on camera by chance I’m inclined to agree.

  “You won’t catch this guy so easily,” he adds. “And if you get caught in his trap, he’ll kill you. And he has a nasty taste for women that I don’t like.”

  Goosebumps spread over my skin along with the icy tendrils of fear. I know it’s foolish not to heed the warning, but I can’t run away from my responsibility.

  “It’s my job, and I’m going to do it. I was well aware of the job specs when I chose to become what I am,” I insist, staring him head on. “Knowing danger is on the horizon isn’t going to scare me away.” That part’s a lie, but I’m saying it anyway.

  “It should.”

  “It won’t.”

  “Cora, you are so fucking stubborn,” he fumes.

  “Yes I am stubborn and you know what? I’m leaving,” I say taking a step forward. He stops me by setting a heavy hand on my shoulder.

  Alex shakes his head. “No. I’m not done talking yet.”

  “I’m done talking to you. I’m working this case whether you like it or not.” I sound more ballsy than I feel, and I have to admit there’s a certain air of triumph in standing my ground.

  “That fucker is dangerous and I don’t want you working on this case.” He releases me and straightens up, hardening his gaze.

  “We’re not together anymore so you can’t tell me what to do,” I retort.

  With a savage growl he moves to me and I back away right into the wall. He throws a fist into the hard surface right beside my head and I flinch.

  “Like fuck I can’t. After last night y
ou’re gonna throw that shit to me?” he rivets his gaze to mine.

  “You know we can’t be together, Alex.”

  “Why not?”

  “Do I really have to spell it out for you? You’re a mobster and I’m a fed. The two don’t work together. You’re a criminal. Look at this house,” I rasp. “Are you going to tell me you bought it with your hard-earned cash?”

  I hate it when he smiles back at me. “Yes. I am going to tell you that. Me and my bike made it. We do stunts. I jump off buildings. I hold bike races at the arena I share with the guys. Sometimes I fly through the air and do all manner of shit. It pays well to live on the edge.” He chuckles, but I keep my face stern.

  “That’s it? Your boss, Claudius, doesn’t pay you to be his capo and do his bidding?”

  “We’re mobsters, Cora. I won’t lie to you. I was born into the mob, and it’s what I am. Who I am is a different story.”

  “So you think you’re good?” I counter.

  “No,” he answers, short and succinct. It surprises me because I thought that was the conclusion he was gearing toward. “I’m not good. But that’s not the issue with us, is it? You knew I was a snake when you picked me up, and you knew the snake would come to you when you summoned it.”

  A menacing smile lights up his face, he has me exactly where he wants me and he knows it.

  “You summoned me even after you made this change to your life, Coraline. Agent Monroe. The fed went looking for her mobster lover.” He looms before me like temptation, coming so close his nose brushes over mine. “You summoned me because you know I’m different.”

  “There are no good criminals, Alex. I shouldn’t trust you.”

  “Trust is just one thing, doll. You trust me, but you don’t want to,” he says and his words grip me so much I can’t tear my eyes away from his. “Truth is truth, and neither you nor me can change it. I don’t have to ask you if you trust me because I know you do. I’d never break your trust and I would never break you. You know that but you don’t want to believe it. Whatever made you leave is not about me and you. We’ve always existed outside reality. That is truth.”

 

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