Kiss Chase

by Scarlett Finn

  But that was a bad thing. Bella and Strike were not good people and they would eat Junker for breakfast. He’d be blindsided by their laughter if he started to talk about morals and righteousness.

  Rora feared for her new friend’s safety. Junker had honor and would hesitate before taking someone’s head off. Strike wouldn’t.

  Before she got to the bathroom, she spun around. “Junk,” she said. He looked over his shoulder. “Exile shot Jewel once.” His brow came down. “He was… trying to get out of a dangerous situation and Jewel was being unreasonable… So, he shot her shoulder.”

  “Harsh,” he said, taking his focus from his tools to face her. “Do you think that she’s looking for payback? If he’s smart, he won’t show… You didn’t tell me this before. It might’ve changed our decision to go this route.”

  “I think he’ll show,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t show up to see the woman I shot… Do you think she wants to kill him or that he’s coming to finish the job? Do you think he’d win?”

  “Don’t bet on it, Jewel usually travels with a posse,” she said. But Junker had been in Bella’s house, if he’d done any kind of recon he’d know that the beauty had men to do her dirty work for her. “But she won’t kill Exile.”

  “How can you be sure?” he asked, his attention becoming keen.

  “Two reasons. The first is she needs him to finish Benjamin’s work. Exile’s the only one who can optimize its potential.”

  “And? What’s the second reason?”

  This one was harder to say. “She’s in love with him.”

  The surprise that struck him widened his eyes. “They’re a couple?”

  “Were… I don’t know about now. I think they hook up when they get together. The violence, the hatred, it’s all foreplay to them.”

  Squeezing his lips together, he seemed to be thinking about how this changed things. “We know they’re dangerous. But you think she’ll probably forgive him for shooting her since the wound clearly wasn’t fatal.”

  Unfortunately, it hadn’t been. Rora had never thought she could be the type of person to wish another dead, but if Strike had executed the Black Jewel in Wonderland, she’d have been saved from so much pain.

  “She won’t kill him, but Jewel will punish him,” she said.

  Junker took a step toward her. “Punish him, how?”

  That was something Rora didn’t want to imagine. As gruesome as it might be, it would also be intensely intimate for the couple. “I don’t know, but it will probably be sexual… and violent.”

  As Rora’s mind started to drift again, Junker’s just seemed to be perplexed. “He’s stronger than her, but he’d tolerate violence?”

  Violence was a stable in Strike’s life. “If Exile wants her… he’ll let her do whatever she wants to him.”

  “Why?”

  Resisting the urge to sigh, Rora knew it was impossible for someone as pure as Junker to understand. “Because it’s what Exile believes he deserves, and he can take it,” she said. “He can take the hits, the whip, the hatred; he gets off on it because it makes him hate her. He wants to hate her. Because as long as he hates her, he’ll never love her… Except he does love her.”

  Junker stopped in front of her, wide stance, arms folded, and a frown on his face. “You’re not making much sense, Aurora.”

  No, and she was starting to feel that churn of frustrated emotion. “He won’t admit to himself that he needs any human connection.”

  His chin rose, and he peered down his nose. “Aurora,” he said. “Did something—”

  “I’m going to get in the tub,” she said and spun to head for the bathroom.

  Every time she edged into a conversation with Junker that hinted she might be ready to drop her guard, she made an excuse and ran away before it could go too far.

  Rora wanted to trust him, she wanted to relax and let him in, but it was becoming more obvious with each passing day that it was unlikely she’d ever trust anyone again.

  Nice as it would be to have someone to lean on who she could reveal any truth to and know they’d stick around to support her, she’d learned a hard truth with Strike. She’d thought her ex could be that person. He was unlike any other man she’d ever known. Rora had been willing to accept him, to stand with him through anything. It was just a shame he hadn’t been interested in reciprocating.

  While the water filled the tub, she stripped off and slapped her hands down on the vanity to lean in and glare at her reflection. “Stop thinking about him,” she growled at herself. “Stop it.”

  Squeezing her eyes closed, she let her head drop. Her neck screamed in protest, but the physical pain was more welcome than the heartache and sorrow.

  Drawing in a breath, she lifted her chin to look in the mirror again. Strike’s reflection behind hers startled her. Gasping, she spun around, falling back against the vanity, but… he wasn’t there. She was alone.

  Rubbing her face, Rora wanted to slap herself. He wasn’t here, of course he wasn’t; there was no window in the room, and the door hadn’t opened. He was in her head, all in her head, just like their love had been.

  There were times in the past when she’d been sure she was losing her mind. But it hadn’t been as potent as this. Her grip on reality was loosening and she didn’t know what would happen when she finally gave up and let go.

  SIX

  The Black Jewel had shown up at the hotel on time.

  For two days, Rora and Junker sat on the couch in their hotel room and watched Bella go about her life. Junker had set up the cameras so they could see their mark eating dinner in the restaurant, and breakfast in her room at the table in the window.

  Their choice not to stay in the same hotel as Bella had been deliberate. It gave them options and discretion.

  In order to keep an eye on Bella’s suite, Junker had placed cameras outside the windows of the building opposite the hotel, which happened to be a department store. From those cameras, when the curtains were open, they got a partial view into Bella’s bedroom and across the living room to the door.

  “You’re quite the tech genius,” Rora said. “Every time I see this set up I’m impressed all over again.”

  “Do you want a drink?” Junker asked and leaped up to go to the fridge.

  Yes, this room even had its own fridge. It wasn’t stocked, but she was happy not to have to pay minibar prices. “A soda?”

  “No,” he said, turning to show one bottle of wine and one of whiskey. “Which do you like?”

  Booze was an unusual choice for Junker, but he brought both bottles over to her on the couch. Although she might have preferred the stronger liquor, Rora selected the wine.

  With the way her mood had been and her wish to erase her ex from her thoughts, she’d probably have kept on downing the whiskey until she passed out, which wouldn’t be close to smart.

  “Do we have a corkscrew? Where did you get this?”

  “I got it when I was out earlier,” he said, taking a Swiss Army knife from his pocket. “I thought we could use something to pass the time.”

  And she wasn’t going to say no to the novelty of alcohol. “It’s been an age since I had a drink,” she said, watching him pull a corkscrew from his knife to open the bottle.

  “You deserve one.”

  Trying to remember when she’d last had alcohol, Rora recalled Bella’s date rape, making her glad she was witnessing Junker open the glass bottle. Be that as it may, when he offered the bottle to her first, she shook her head. “After you.”

  Though it seemed that he noted something behind her smile, he took a drink anyway. Rora was happy to accept the bottle next and after taking a long mouthful, she sat back on the couch and tucked her feet up, pulling her knees to her chest.

  Twisting into the corner of the couch, he laid an arm along the back to look at her. “So, Aurora, now we’ve spent all these hours, all these days together, you have to be ready to tell me something about yourself… Do you trust m
e yet?”

  She assessed him. “Trust is… it’s difficult to give when you don’t trust yourself.”

  “You don’t trust yourself?” he asked. “You should. Benjamin trusts you, he wouldn’t trust you if you weren’t a good person. Give yourself some credit.”

  With her mouth around the bottle, she examined him as she drank the wine. He was attractive, clean-shaven tonight, she had seen him with stubble too, and either worked. His hair was neat, not too short, and he was happy in the blue jeans that matched his eyes. He had long lashes and a twinkle in his eye that made him approachable.

  Lowering the bottle from her lips, she handed it to him, and waited until he’d had a drink. Once he’d removed the bottle from his lips, she took a tentative step toward trusting him.

  “Benjamin is dead,” she said. His ease vanished. “He shot himself to protect the secret.”

  “The secret?” he asked. “Oh my God, Aurora. I’m so sorry.”

  Putting the wine on the table, Junker didn’t even glance at the screens set up on the coffee table and dresser. He pulled her into his arms like it was some sort of comfort, but Rora stayed rigid while he held her, stroking her hair.

  This kind of affection was foreign to her. Benjamin would hold her, but she never felt protected in his embrace. Strike had made her feel protected, whether he held her or not, but there was little tenderness in his arms.

  Somehow, Junker gave her both.

  The man who’d read her emails, responded with sympathy, advice, and jokes, was here, holding her. For the first time in a long time, she felt both safe and cared for. But it made her uneasy. The moment she began to relax was the same one she pushed him away even in spite of her decision to trust him.

  Still in his arms, she peeked up to see the same intensity in his eyes that she’d noticed at the bus station. Whenever their eyes met, there was something there, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Was she looking for something in him or was it the other way around? She felt needed. Respected…

  Her thoughts were still swirling when he leaned in. His lips touched hers gently and held there in a brief breath of invitation and acceptance.

  Pushing forward, he opened his mouth and kissed her harder, tipping his head to the side in a silent request for her to reciprocate. She didn’t know what to do. Rora knew it was polite to respond when a handsome man kissed her.

  It was a nice kiss; warm, comforting, and cleansing in an odd way. Her eyes were still open, again, not polite, but her rudeness ended up working out because from the corner of her eye, she spotted something on the nearest screen.

  “Oh my god,” she said, shoving Junker away to slide down onto the floor.

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  “No,” she said, bumping her fist on the inside of his knee. “Look!”

  He twisted to look at the screen she was pointing at, which meant she ended up between his shins, but she didn’t care about that now. Shaking her finger at the image of the corner outside Bella’s hotel, Rora was mesmerized by the blurred shape.

  “It might be a fault,” Junker said, putting his hand on her crown to stroke her hair.

  Ignoring his physical affection, she was too transfixed to object or move his hand away. “That’s no glitch,” she said, her finger almost making contact with the screen. “That’s Exile.”

  Even though it wasn’t the one she knew him by, just saying the name made a tremor go through her and stop in her throat.

  He was here. Just a couple of blocks away.

  “Are you sure?” Junker asked, excitement making his fingers scrunch her hair. “How do you know?”

  “Because he has tech that distorts his image,” she said. “And there’s a service alley down there. He’s probably been inside the building already, but he’ll want to make a quick escape if he has to, so he won’t trap himself inside. And if the Jewel is…”

  Just at that, Bella walked onto the other side of the screen toward the blurred guy who then went into the alley. “The Black Jewel,” Junker said. “We have to wait and see if she talks to—”

  “That’s him,” she said.

  It was odd, Rora’s instincts could feel him. A thrumming in her belly betrayed her awareness, but she couldn’t figure out if the root of it was excitement or fear. She didn’t need to see her ex’s face, she recognized his boots, his jeans, the way he stood, the way he walked. That was Exile. Without a doubt.

  Her eyes closed. This was on. It was real. It was happening.

  Junker ruffled her hair and used her head to boost himself onto his feet. It took her a minute to realize that he was moving around the room.

  Dragging her eyes from the screen just as Bella disappeared into the alley, Rora grabbed the seat of the couch and pulled herself onto her knees. “What are you doing?”

  “I have to get close if I want to listen in,” he said, pulling on his jacket.

  Panic hit her hard. “No, no, no,” she said, clambering onto the couch to lunge over it and grab his jacket as he passed. “You can’t. You won’t be able to listen in. He won’t let you.”

  “I have tech of my own. If I have to get close—”

  “Then he’ll kill you,” she said.

  Curling his fingers around hers, Junker peeled them from his jacket and went to the nightstand drawer. Retrieving something, he showed her a gun and checked the clip. “I’ll be ok with my little friend.”

  It was just a handgun, but his wide smile was endearing. Sighing, she sank down onto her heels, resting her hands on the back of the couch. Junker’s confidence was misplaced, but he wasn’t going to be talked out of his plan.

  “Don’t let him get near you. If he gets his hands on you, that’ll be it. He’ll break your arm, or he’ll knock you out… and he carries a knife.”

  Tucking the gun into the back of his pants, Junker came over and put his hand on her head. “My little friend works from a long way away.”

  He bowed and kissed the top of her head. She grabbed his hand. “Just… only shoot if you absolutely have to, ok? And… aim for an arm or a leg…” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to have to bail you out for murder.”

  He smiled again and nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Rolling her lips into her mouth, Rora could only sit there and watch him go. Long after he was gone, it occurred to her that she could’ve offered to join him. But she reassured herself that Junker was in shape, he had enough muscle that he could take care of himself… against anyone except maybe Strike.

  Flopping onto the couch face first, she locked her hands at the back of her head. This was going to be a long night.

  Almost an hour later, a frustrated Junker returned to the hotel room.

  Rora was sitting in the middle of the bed, watching the surveillance screens from across the room, when the door opened, and he came storming in.

  “What happened?” she asked, leaping off the bed to run to him. Her eyes darted over his body, checking for any obvious injuries. “Did he break you?”

  Snatching his fingers, she inspected one hand and then the other, flipping it over and bending all the digits.

  “No,” he said, curling his hand to link their fingers. “I didn’t find him… or her.”

  Junker guided her to the couch and sat them down, moving the gun from his pants to put it on the table.

  “They weren’t in the alley?” she asked but wasn’t really surprised.

  He took off his jacket. “Anything happen here?” he asked, scanning the equipment. “Did you see him?”

  “No,” she said, because it was true.

  Except in her desire not to see anything, Rora had chosen to sit on the bed, on the other side of the room, where she couldn’t make out too many details on the various screens laid out. Seeing Strike messed with her head in a way she wasn’t equipped to handle.

  Part of her wanted to seek him out, to smack him in the chest and then kiss his face off. As sad as it may be, there was still a part of her that couldn�
��t come to terms with not being his girl, even in the platonic sense… if they’d ever been platonic.

  It was pathetic, but a section of her brain, a tiny one, was whispering to her, telling her to go to him, telling her that Strike would never hurt her. She needed his strength… missed him… the him she’d thought he was.

  Her lip curled at the hatred she felt for herself.

  Junker had never met Exile in the flesh. His only chance of finding him was by tracking Bella and hoping the Black Jewel led him to his man. Tonight, that hadn’t happened, and her friend was disappointed, but Rora had known it was going to play out this way.

  As they sat there looking at the camera feed, Bella came into view. She walked down the sidewalk, through the hotel lobby and returned to her room.

  “Where the hell is he,” Junker exhaled, scrutinizing the screens, hoping for a clue. “You were right; I should’ve listened to you. If we can’t see his face or find him to hear his voice, how will we learn what he has? How will we know what he plans to do with it?”

  “Are you giving up?”

  “No,” he said and spun to look at her, grabbing her hand. “Being covert isn’t going to work. We have to be more direct… We should ask him.”

  She hadn’t expected Junker to say that and didn’t like the suggestion at all. “Uh, we should… what?”

  Determined hope radiated from him. “We’ll arrange a meet,” he said. “Why shouldn’t he meet me? He’s not going to view me as a threat.”

  Worry made her shake her head fast. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You can’t confront him. If you end up in a fight…”

  Raising her hand, he pressed it to his lips. “Not a confrontation, not a fight. We’ll be professional and talk, man-to-man.”

  She was incredulous. “Reason with him? We talked about this, he can’t—”

  “How will I know that if I don’t try?” he asked. “I have to put eyes on the guy, to let him know I’m around, I’m watching him. We can’t stay in this holding pattern. What’s the alternative? Every minute that passes is another minute this is out there. He could be doing anything with it.”