A Breath of Innocence

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by K. A. Merikan




  Guns n’ Boys: A Breath of Innocence (Book 8)

  K.A. Merikan

  “I would wait a lifetime for this.”

  “You don’t have to wait anymore. I want you.”

  Mark is done with flings. He is looking for something real, and he knows just where to find it. Years ago, he fell in love with Charlotte Elswood, but after saving her life, he made the difficult choice to stay in a cartel for the sake of his family.

  Now, free of the bloodstained work, he’s ready to rekindle what he’s lost.

  But in England, he meets someone who is also blond, blue-eyed, and irresistible. Problem is, Griffith Elswood is Charlotte’s brother. Should Mark even consider putting his hands all over an innocent who would push him away if he knew what kind of monster Mark is?

  After years of homeschooling, Griffith wants nothing more than to finally spread his wings at university. Secretly, he dreams of meeting a man he can fall madly in love with. A man he would have all the firsts with. But it’s hard to trust anyone after witnessing his sister’s heartbreak.

  When Mark moves in next door, Griffith reaches out despite his sister’s warnings. Mark is mysterious, experienced, cocky, and just oh-so-dreamy. Alternating between hot and cold, Mark’s presence sends Griffith into a frenzy of passion like he’s never known before. So hot in fact, it might just burn him if he isn’t careful.

  POSSIBLE SPOILERS:

  Themes: mafia, organized crime, family ties, secrets, innocence, British setting, dance, homophobia, in the closet, coming out, coming of age

  Genre: M/M romance

  Length: ~125,000 words (Book 8 in the series)

  WARNING: Adult content. Scorching hot, explicit love scenes. Dark humor.

  A Breath of Innocence - Book 8

  K.A. Merikan

  Acerbi & Villani Ltd.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living, dead, or undead, events, places or names is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transferred in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the publisher. Uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without a permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

  Text copyright © 2018 K.A. Merikan

  All Rights Reserved

  http://kamerikan.com

  Cover Design by

  Natasha Snow

  http://natashasnow.com

  Table of Contents

  Prologue - Mark

  Chapter 1 - Griffith

  Chapter 2 - Mark

  Chapter 3 - Griffith

  Chapter 4 - Mark

  Chapter 5 - Griffith

  Chapter 6 - Griffith

  Chapter 7 - Mark

  Chapter 8 - Griffith

  Chapter 9 - Mark

  Chapter 10 - Griffith

  Chapter 11 - Mark

  Chapter 12 - Griffith

  Chapter 13 - Mark

  Chapter 14 - Griffith

  Chapter 15 - Griffith

  Chapter 16 - Griffith

  Chapter 17 - Griffith

  Chapter 18 - Mark

  Chapter 19 - Griffith

  Chapter 20 - Griffith

  Chapter 21 - Mark

  Chapter 22 - Griffith

  Chapter 23 - Mark

  Chapter 24 - Griffith

  Chapter 25 - Griffith

  Chapter 26 - Mark

  Chapter 27 - Griffith

  Epilogue - Mark

  PATREON

  NEWSLETTER

  About the author

  Post-credits Scene (Shaun)

  Prologue - Mark

  By the time they arrived at the airport, Mark was close to calling the whole thing off. For most of his life, the word family had meant very little to him, but life with Domenico and Seth, however unusual and stormy, offered him a sense of belonging and support that he’d previously given up on. So what the hell had tempted him into leaving all that behind? And for a girl who might barely remember him. Sure, there were phones, and the internet, but none of those could replace the immediate connection of chatting about their day over a home-cooked breakfast.

  He was getting homesick even before he physically left his chosen family..

  “But you’ll call me if you need me, right?” Mark asked, unwilling to walk through the security gates just yet. He was used to going off and doing his own thing, especially in Buenos Aires where he had way more free time than in El Encanto, but this felt different. Like cutting the umbilical cord all over again.

  Domenico kept chewing his lips, struggling with the smoking ban yet not wanting to waste time on arguing with airport staff. It was a sacrifice on his part, and Mark felt a little bit moved.

  “Nothing’s going to happen. You will have plenty to do while you’re there. Go to school, meet new people, and just enjoy your life. If something drastic happens, there’s the emergency phone number and a safety net you can put in motion.”

  Seth patted Mark’s shoulder, his smile soft and friendly. “Why the long face? Come on, Mark. This was your idea in the first place. What’s the worst that can happen? If you hate it there, you can come back next month.”

  But that wasn’t true. The worst thing that could happen was finding out the one girl he’d ever loved had moved on. The worst thing would be him finding out that he simply couldn’t adjust to regular life, and that he would never fit in anywhere. The worst thing could be people quietly looking away from the scars around his eye or staring if he wore an eye patch.

  He felt like the Hunchback of Notre Dame about to get his one chance to face the crowd of people who were unaware that there was a monster amongst them. Would his cover prove good enough?

  He flinched when Domenico squeezed his shoulder, seeming unusually serious despite wearing casual clothes.

  “Mark? You can still change your mind. We wouldn’t hold it against you if you prefer to find a school and new friends over here.”

  Mark swallowed, but in this moment of quiet confrontation between his dreams and fears, he finally made his decision. “No, I do want to try this. Seth’s right. I can come back if something changes.”

  Seeing Domenico’s face fall that little bit gave Mark some guilty satisfaction. Even though Mark failed to connect with most people, Domenico would miss him, so he had to be doing something right.

  Dom briefly looked at the screen displaying all the upcoming flights and gave a low exhale, before stepping closer and pulling Mark into a tight hug. “Don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything.” It seemed he was about to pull away when he leaned even closer instead and whispered into Mark’s ear, “remember the special code? If I say ‘stay put’, it means I want you to run. Not think about us, not think about anything else at all. You just run and then follow the protocol we established.”

  Mark nodded and patted Domenico’s back. “Make sure Angelica gets her ricotta whenever she wants.” He smiled and gave Seth a big hug as well.

  Seth didn’t want to let him go for that bit longer, but then slapped Mark on the shoulder, and they parted. Mark was now a Vincitore. He had a sleek backstory that merged nicely with his true identity, and a suitcase full of high quality clothes Domenico had helped him pick out.

  He was a new man, and he would prove to the world just what he was worth.

  Chapter 1 - Griffith

  The air smelled of sunshine. Warmth licked Griffith’s shoulders, and the scent of wild flowers filled his lungs with each breath. Percival’s strong muscles worked tirelessly with each step along the dirt road through the woods. Their steady rhythm lulled Griffith in the saddle until he leaned forward and rested his face on the thick neck of his mount.

  His life was fin
ally about to change. From this year on, he would be living away from his parents, free to make friends with whomever he chose, and taking care of himself like an adult. No longer bound by insistent questions and watchful eyes, his isolation in the countryside was finally over.

  He looked back at his sister, Charlotte, who smiled as if she could read his mind. Seeing the heavy flush on her pale cheeks made Griffith wonder whether he’d put on enough sunscreen before the ride, since in terms of looks they were like two drops of water. Their fine hair just a shade off ivory, eyes a cool blue, and they even had the same small nose, with Griffith’s only slightly larger than Charlotte’s. Their familial resemblance ran so deep they’d been mistaken for twins in the past.

  And now that Griffith had earned a place at the same University as his big sister, they would also be sharing a flat.

  Charlotte rushed Snowflake, Percival’s sister, so that they were only inches apart. “You can’t be tired already, Griff.”

  He grinned at her and patted his horse’s neck. “I’m never tired. I’m only now starting to live,” he said and pulled himself up, feeling energized and mentally refreshed after an hour of riding. “We should properly celebrate me finally moving out of Mum and Dad’s.”

  She snorted and raised her eyebrows at him. “How about we celebrate once you’re eighteen, smartass?”

  Griffith frowned at her. “There’s plenty of places where I could go without an ID. Or we could get me a fake one somewhere. I want to experience the city!”

  "Somewhere? Look at you, delving into the criminal underbelly of Bristol!” In her attempts to tease him, Charlotte didn’t notice a branch in her way before it swatted her. Served her right.

  Griffith exhaled loudly and pulled his leg out of the stirrup to nudge her thigh. “Come on, Charlie! You know how Mum and Dad are. I’ve never been to a club, or even a normal party. Let’s go somewhere fun before the classes start.”

  Charlotte let her head roll over her shoulders, and her long hair cascaded down her back as she groaned. “What’s a ‘normal’ party anyway? Can’t we go grab a coffee somewhere nice? Or brunch! I’d rather do that.”

  Griffith nudged Percival into a trot. “Oh, my God, you’re almost as boring as Chris. You two have a long life ahead of you, full of waffles, the missionary position, and cocoa.”

  Charlotte made Snowflake go faster as well. “You did not just say that! I am lots of fun!”

  Griffith snorted, trying to cover the extent of his annoyance. “You used to be. All those wild parties with your girlfriends, and drinking alcohol at fifteen. You had all the fun. And now that you’ve turned into a saint, you want to police what I do.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” she grumbled as if she were a hundred years old, not twenty.

  Griff was so done with this. As soon as she lagged behind, he urged Percival to go faster, and darted through the forest as if there were wolves chasing him. Standing in the stirrups, he galloped out of the woodland and toward the large complex where he and Charlotte kept their horses.

  Griffith slowed down somewhat when he and Percival passed the paddock currently used for dressage training, and progressed all the way to the vast main building that contained all the stalls, grooming stations, and even a space for socializing.

  Having tied his horse at one of the stations, Griffith hurried toward the kitchen area, since his mouth had gotten so dry during the ride it felt like he’d swallowed wood chips. The adjacent dayroom was finished in wood and decorated with old-timey prints depicting gentlemen on horseback. If Griffith weren’t the only one present, he’d have gladly sipped his water while exchanging a few words with a prospective new friend, but in the end he walked outside to stretch his legs.

  Far off, across two empty paddocks, a stable worker transported bales of hay in a humming little vehicle, but the late summer scenery remained perfectly serene otherwise.

  Still sipping water from the cup, Griffith decided to have a look at the large indoor riding space before taking care of Percival. He could hear the distinct sound of a horse stomping beyond the metal wall of the building as he approached.

  He sped up when he heard the horse inside do the same, but the moment he stood in the open doors, all and any thoughts drained out of his head. A huge mountain of horseflesh stormed straight at him. He dropped his cup, panic turning him into a statue of muscle and bone. The horse was black like Satan’s own stallion, and when it rose to its hind legs, hooves the size of Griffith’s head boxed through the air, about to take him into the infernal abyss.

  The beast let out a terrible, wheezing sound and missed Griff by inches when he finally darted to the side, but its rider fell to the ground with a dull thud. With his hands still trembling, Griffith took a further step back, torn between helping the stranger and keeping his distance from the gargantuan horse, which paced away, throwing around its wavy mane and snorting.

  The fallen rider stirred, but it was the groan he made that finally snapped Griffith back to reality. With the enormous stallion no longer posing a threat, he kneeled next to the stranger and leaned over him, barely breathing with worry. Had it been him who’d startled the horse? What if his presence in the wrong place and at the wrong time ended up with this guy breaking his back? It would have been such a terrible start to Griffith’s new adult life.

  “Are you all right?”

  The man grunted and sat up, meeting Griffith’s gaze with something akin to recognition flashing across the handsome face. He smiled as if he’d just met an old friend. “I think I’m fine, give me a sec,” he said with an accent Griff couldn’t put his finger on even though it sounded vaguely American. But there was something far more distracting about the stranger.

  He wore an eyepatch—simple and made of black cloth—over his left eye. But as unusual as the sight was, Griffith found it hard not to focus on the man’s healthy eye when it pierced him with an intense gaze.

  It was like looking into a cup of the smoothest, creamiest chocolate that Griffith wanted drizzling over his tongue. He might have stared too long, but the stranger didn’t seem to mind and squeezed Griffith’s hand in greeting. They were so close his warm breath touched Griffith’s skin, and the tanned fingers sucked Griffith’s hand in like warm sand on a tropical beach that he never wanted to leave.

  Oh, God.

  “You frightened me there. You sure nothing’s broken?” he asked, trying to keep his gaze on the stranger’s eye instead of letting it roam down the wiry neck.

  Only then did he realize he was still holding the man’s hand and pulled away in panic. What if his interest was noticed? He’d surely have to move his horse to another stable to avoid any more awkwardness.

  “No, I think I’m fine. Unless it’s one of those situations where you’re fine for a few hours, and then your brain suddenly hemorrhages, and you die.”

  The man laughed, as if death was nothing to him, and stood up, a couple of inches taller than Griffith, his torso a harmonious inverted triangle that met long, strong legs. When he pulled up the edge of his top to rub dirt off his face, Griffith might have gasped. He didn’t even know anymore.

  “Don’t say things like that,” Griffith whispered, with a shove to the stranger’s shoulder. Still, he couldn’t deny himself a glance at the picture-perfect abs.

  Was this guy even real, or had Griff been trampled after all, and this was his personal hell where he’d be taunted by men he couldn’t touch until the end of times?

  As if he wasn’t charming enough already, the guy ruffled his hair to brush out the sand. Even his haircut was cool, with short sides and a mess of dark curls on top. They looked so soft Griffith wanted to push his fingers into the locks and feel them slide against his skin.

  “Why not? You scared of insurance claims? I should get your number, just in case,” the guy said. Had he just winked? It was hard to tell since he only had one eye, but Griff was pretty sure the eye closed for long enough that it couldn’t have been only a blink.

>   Griffith was bright red. He could feel it in his cheeks. “Uh... okay.”

  “I’m Mark.” The stranger pulled out his phone. “You? So I don’t have to put you in as ‘porcelain boy’.”

  Griffith stared at the hand holding the device and the pronounced veins going down the sturdy looking forearm. And the dark hair on it. How would it feel if he touched it?

  “Very funny. I’m Griffith Elswood.” His mouth was getting dry once more. “Friends call me Griff.”

  “Gri...ffith.” Mark said, looking into his phone, and as Griff dictated his number, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was being flirted with. But would anyone be so straightforward with a perfect stranger in a space as sexually neutral as the stables? Maybe Americans were. They could be so direct sometimes.

  Mark glanced back at him with a smile. “Great. Now I just need your address too, so I can put out a hit on the dark web.”

  Griffith sucked in a lungful of air, and for the briefest moment he could sense the cold steel of an imaginary knife against his neck. Then, Mark’s smile was there to lead him back into the light.

  “You’re the worst. For all I know, you could be a professional hitman yourself.”

  Mark’s grin only widened, and if it wasn’t the most enticing thing Griff had ever seen, he definitely couldn’t remember any sight more inviting. Mark’s lips were so full they begged to be kissed, and with Griff’s luck, they were no doubt often enjoyed by a hot girlfriend.

  Mark spread his arms. “You never know, right? Maybe I already know where you live.”

  Griffith glanced over his shoulder when the soft stomping of hooves approached from behind. The massive horse was back, steady and calm as if it hadn’t just tossed its rider to the ground. “I very much doubt that. I only moved to Bristol last week.”

  Mark clicked his tongue, and grabbed the horse’s reins once the beast came closer. When his fingers rubbed the black flesh, Griffith realized he wouldn’t mind being a horse, gently petted, pampered by those capable hands, feeling the weight of a man on his back—

 

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