Mad Love

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Mad Love Page 10

by Drake, Tabatha

Her hand jolts out of my grasp. “What did you just say?”

  Oh, fuck.

  Lilah takes a step back. “How do you know that?”

  I reach for her hand again, but she jerks her elbow back. “Lilah—”

  “Archer, how do you know that?”

  “I’m a bounty hunter.”

  She lunges for the knife next to my plate. I slam my hands down on hers, pinning her wrists to the table and drawing plenty of eyes in our direction.

  “Archer, let go.”

  “Drop the knife and I will.”

  “Tell me how you know that, and I’ll consider maybe dropping the knife.”

  We stand still, both of us flexing in an awkward stalemate until the waiter appears beside us.

  “Is there a problem here?” he asks, his young voice shaking.

  “We’re fine,” we both spit out at once, refusing to break eye contact with one another.

  He shifts backward but doesn’t leave.

  “Look…” I lower my voice and slide her hand a few inches to pull her closer. “I know about the lake house—”

  “How?”

  “I’m getting to that. Bloody hell, woman. Be patient.”

  She bares her teeth. “Archer…”

  “Boxcar told me about it.”

  The anger in her fades, instantly replaced with fear. “Boxcar?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fox Fitzpatrick’s little hacker buddy knows about it?”

  I nod and gesture to the knife. “Please…”

  Lilah raises her head and scans the prying eyes around us as the knife clatters against the table. “I have to go…” she whispers.

  “I’ll take you—”

  “Stay away from me.”

  “Lilah—”

  She jerks from my hands and bolts for the nearest exit.

  “Shit.” I stand up, reach into my pocket for some cash to toss on the table, and chase her outside. “Lilah, stop.”

  She quickens her pace, forcing me to do the same.

  I catch up to her as she throws open the door to my trailer. “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Do you have any idea what Fox is capable of?” she asks, beelining into the back to grab her duffel bag.

  “Yes, I do.” I block the door. “Calm down.”

  “I shot Boxcar.”

  “It was a flesh wound. Trust me. He’s fine.”

  She throws the bag over her shoulder. “They could be on their way there right now. I have to call my brothers and tell them that Fox fucking Fitzpatrick knows about our goddamn safe house!”

  “Dante already knows that.”

  She freezes. “What?”

  “He spoke with Fox two days ago.”

  Her expression twists. “No, he didn’t.”

  “Yes, he did. Just after you and Elijah left. I saw it myself.”

  Lilah drops the bag to her side. Fear, confusion, hatred. It all passes through her eyes in seconds. “Dante talked to Fox?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod and reach out, throwing caution to the wind as I rest my palms on her shoulders. “Lilah, take a moment and think.”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore, Archer.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She straightens up. “Nothing. Get out of the way.”

  I tighten my grip on her shoulders. “No.”

  “Move.”

  “Lilah…” I stare into her eyes, trying to hold them as they skip down to the floor. “Don’t panic.”

  “I don’t panic,” she says. “I act. This is me acting and you don’t want to know what it feels like to get in my way, Archer.”

  “If you were going to hurt me, you’d have done it already.”

  She hesitates. “Move.”

  “What exactly is your plan?” I ask. “Hotwire a car? Blow down the highway as fast as you can before one of the locals notices it’s gone?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Let me take you,” I offer again. “We’ll meet up with your brothers and decide what to do then.”

  She knocks my hands away. “You’re not a part of this.”

  “I disagree.”

  “I said I didn’t want to kill you, Archer. That doesn’t mean I won’t.”

  I shift a step back to give her space, but I stand my ground. “Just out of personal curiosity,” I say, “if you did kill me, would you feel bad about it?”

  “Yeah.” Her eyes twitch with impatience. “For about five minutes.”

  I tilt my head. “That’s longer than I expected.”

  “Well, you know what they say about Lilah Hart…” she seethes, gripping her bag a little tighter. “She’s a monster.”

  “Yeah, well—” I grab her arm as she tries to pass by. “You’re my monster… and that’s good enough for me.”

  I crush my mouth on hers, pulling her closer and the bag slips from her fingers. She grips my arms, nails digging in as I cup her face and hold her against me. She parts her lips, allowing my tongue to dance with hers as a little moan escapes her throat.

  I pick her up without breaking our kiss and she wraps her strong thighs around my waist, yielding to what we both know she wants.

  “Archer…” she sighs against my lips.

  “What?” I set her on the table and reach for my belt.

  She spins around to bend over. “I really hate you right now…”

  I free my hungry cock as she raises her dress. “The feeling is mutual, love…”

  Her entire body quivers as I thrust inside of her. She squeezes hard around me, making me dig my fingers into her hips to keep myself standing upright.

  I lay a hand on her back and force her down until her face hits the table. She moans for me, raising one knee to guide me deeper inside. I fuck harder and faster, holding her tightly to keep her from shifting too far away. Everything throbs, pushing me quickly toward release but every moment inside Lilah Hart is pure ecstasy. I don’t want it to end and I especially don’t want it to end until long after I see that glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes.

  Her mouth opens in a silent scream. She slams a fist against the table. I feel the deluge of warmth from her wide-open slit, but I don’t stop.

  I won’t stop until she’s begging me to.

  Lilah arches her back and presses her palms into the table to lift herself up. She twists her head around to lock lips with me and I shove my tongue into her fucking throat.

  My senses soar again, just as they did all night long. Just one taste of her skin. Just one deep stroke in her cunt. That’s all it takes for me to get completely high on her. I forget everything else, driven wild by greed.

  “What the fuck, Lilah?!”

  I freeze mid-thrust as a man’s voice cries out from behind us.

  Lilah deflates in my arms. “Oh, shit…” she whispers.

  We glance over our shoulders at the two men standing in the trailer doorway.

  Her brothers. Dante and Elijah Hart. Two trained killers with their pistols pointed at me… and me with my pants around my fucking ankles behind their sister...

  “Oh, shit…” I mutter.

  Chapter 16

  Lilah

  “I, uh…” I clear my throat and show an awkward grin to my brothers. “I can explain this.”

  Elijah blinks, his jaw hanging open as he lowers his gun to his side.

  Dante glares at Archer, refusing to drop his arm. I’ve pissed off my big brother quite a few times, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this irate before in my life.

  Archer doesn’t move. Any sudden movement will surely entice Dante’s trigger finger and I highly doubt either of us wants him to pull out with them staring at us.

  I look at Elijah, tapping into whatever mystical twin telepathy we might have to turn this situation around if that’s even possible. I’m bent over a fucking table, for Christ’s sake…

  Elijah reaches for the open door. “So, we’ll be outside,” he says
, glancing around Archer at me. “You good?”

  “Yep,” I say, my cheeks burning. “Just need a minute…”

  He moves to close the door, but Dante won’t budge.

  “Come on,” Elijah says, easing Dante’s gun downward. He guides them both backward until Dante reluctantly spins away.

  The door latches. I drop my head in shame.

  “Fuck,” I say.

  Archer pulls out of me. We move quickly and silently, dressing and adjusting ourselves until we end up staring awkwardly at each other again.

  “So,” Archer bites his lip, “should I be scared?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “I’m about to die, aren’t I?”

  “Probably.”

  “Well…” He flashes a wink. “I guess it was worth it.”

  I chuckle softly. “I can get you a head start.”

  “Much appreciated, but before that…” He takes a step toward me. “I want a rain check on our conversation.”

  I press my lips together to try and curb the desire I have for him, but it doesn’t work. Archer’s hold on me is frightening, to put it mildly.

  “Fine,” I say. “We can stay in touch. Sort of. Maybe. A little.”

  He smiles and bends over to grab my bag. “That’s all I ask.”

  I take it from him and smile at his flushed cheeks. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “Just…” I lick my lips, still sweet from sugar and Brit. “Thanks.”

  He lays a finger under my chin and tilts my face up to kiss me.

  A fist slams against the door. “Lilah!”

  I sigh. “Okay, Dante!”

  Archer winces. “Is he always like this?”

  “Ever since that Sullivan kid in ninth grade…”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind.” I kiss the edge of his mouth. “Get behind the wheel. Speed off as soon as I leave.”

  “Promise you’ll meet me.”

  “Meet you where?”

  He grins. “In St. Louis.”

  I roll my eyes. “How long have you been wanting to say that?”

  “My whole life.” He chuckles. “Friday. The hotel. Be there. Wait—”

  I pause by the door and he grabs my handgun from the kitchen drawer behind him.

  He holds it out to me. “I believe this is yours.”

  I smile one more time. “You can keep it.”

  His lips curl as I step outside.

  My brothers stand there, silently staring at me. Dante’s still just as pissed off, but I catch a hint of amusement hidden in Elijah’s glare.

  The engine turns and Archer does as I told him to, racing off almost immediately from the parking lot.

  Dante furrows his brow with murder in his eyes. “Where’s he going?”

  “Far away,” I answer. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Call him back.”

  “No.”

  “Lilah—” He stops and slinks away in disappointment.

  Elijah shakes his head at both of us. “Am I the only member of this family who knows how to keep their pants on in life or death situations?”

  I roll my eyes. “Oh, please…”

  “I don't think a certain level of professionalism is too much to ask for!”

  “He's right,” Dante says, frowning hard. “This is a bit much, even for you, Lilah.”

  I recoil. “Oh, don't you dare lecture me, Dante.”

  He stares at me. “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “You dragged Lucy into this kicking and screaming. Literally.”

  “She was a danger to herself,” he says.

  “And who the hell gave you the right to decide that for her?”

  “I saved her life after Marty beat her and left her for dead.” He points a finger at me. “This is not the same thing, Lilah. I'm not sleeping with the man sent to hunt me down!”

  “No, you’re just bosom buddies with the prick who started this shit in the first place.”

  He blinks. “What?”

  “Talk to Fox Fitzpatrick lately, big brother?”

  Elijah lets out a scoff. He waits for him to deny it but when Dante says nothing, his face falls. “Have you?”

  “Right after we left home, apparently,” I say. “He didn’t wait two goddamn minutes before phoning him up—”

  “That’s not what happened,” Dante interrupts. “He called me.”

  My chest aches. I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted Dante to say it was all bullshit and that Archer was a liar. What I want and what’s real rarely intersect, but I wanted to be right about this one.

  Elijah shifts on his toes. “And you didn’t think this was important to mention?”

  Dante looks between us. “It wasn’t.”

  “That’s bullshit,” I say. “Once again, you’ve compromised our childhood home for your own selfish crap, Dante. He could be there right now, lying prone across the lake, waiting to put two bullets through our skulls — and that’s on you.”

  Elijah’s eyes grow wide. “Call Lucy. Tell her to get out of there.”

  “She’s fine,” Dante says. “Fox won’t hurt her.”

  I step back in anger. “You sound awfully confident about that.”

  “He won’t,” he says again.

  “So, what’d you talk about, then?” I ask, crossing my arms. “Movies? Politics?”

  “I agreed to keep my distance and so did he. That’s all.”

  “Are you sure that’s all? Is there anything else you’d like to get off your chest?”

  Dante stares me down. “What are you getting at, Lilah?”

  I bite my tongue in hesitation. “Did you or did you not have anything to do with exposing Snake Eyes?”

  His eyes never leave mine. “You think I did?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think,” I say. “Myra, on the other hand—”

  “Myra is here?”

  “Just answer the question, Dante!”

  “No! I didn’t have anything to do with it!”

  “Guys…” Elijah gives a cautious glance around the parking lot. “That’s enough.”

  We stare in silence for many deep breaths before Dante turns his back on me and paces several feet away.

  I look at Elijah. “How did you find me out here?”

  He holds up his phone. “Your signal pinged about twenty minutes ago. We were nearby.”

  My brow rises. “In Chicago?”

  “When you disappeared from the hotel, I asked around,” he explains. “Found a girl on staff who saw you leave with a blond-haired, blue-eyed, British guy. Sounded familiar.”

  I nod. “I didn’t exactly leave with him. He caught me.”

  Dante blinks. “He caught you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You?”

  I sigh. “I put my guard down for one second, okay? Archer tracked us to St. Louis from LA and we…” I hesitate. “I screwed up.”

  Elijah keeps his focus. “From then, it was just checking security footage and tracing his ride to Chicago. Trail was going cold, so it’s a good thing you turned your phone on when you did.”

  Dante digs his heel into the dirt. “Still not fast enough to stop you from doing something stupid.”

  “Dante, chill,” Elijah says, raising his hand. “Lilah, what did Archer want with you?”

  I turn away from Dante’s scowl. “Enzo Zappia. He wasn’t happy about what we did to his little brother, so he hired Archer to track us down. He brought me back to Chicago. Enzo refused to pay up and things got violent.”

  Elijah checks me up and down with trained eyes, searching for wounds. “You okay?”

  My mind instantly flashes to the aftermath of me spread eagle on Archer’s table. “Nothing too bad…”

  “The girl at the hotel said you two talked at the bar.”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me the second you saw him?”

  “Myra gave me a mission to take him out,” I say. “I di
dn’t want you to know.”

  Elijah steps back. “Why not?”

  “I thought I could handle it myself.”

  My brothers pause and look at each other, their faces quickly filling with silent dread.

  “What?” I ask.

  Elijah nudges Dante’s arm. “Show her.”

  “Show me what?”

  “Dante recognized him.”

  “Archer?”

  Dante steps closer to me with his phone in hand. “About a year back, Mercer and I were in Paris for a routine hit. It was done quickly, and we still had a few hours to kill before getting to the airport, so we stopped into a safe house there for a few beers and some shut-eye.”

  “Okay… and?”

  “And Myra was already there… but she wasn’t alone.”

  He holds out his phone and I take it from him. It’s a photo of a man standing outside of an open car door on a Parisian street corner.

  Archer.

  I furrow my brow. “Why did you take this?”

  “Mercer asked me to at the time,” he says. “Said he didn’t recognize him and wanted to check him out. I assumed he found nothing because I never heard another word about it.”

  “What was he doing at a Snake Eyes safe house with Myra?” I ask.

  Dante flexes his jaw. “All I know is that he left when we arrived, and Myra was in nothing but a bathrobe and heels.”

  “Oh, please. He wouldn’t—”

  I shut my mouth. I don’t know nearly enough about Archer to make that kind of assumption.

  “Lilah…” Elijah sidles closer. “Did he say anything to you that put up a red flag? Anything to indicate that he knows more than he should?”

  I think of his story about him being buried alive. I never heard the end of it. Now, I wish I’d asked more questions instead of moaning and grunting in his ears all night.

  “He’s not Snake Eyes…” I say, shaking my head. “He doesn’t have the tattoo.”

  “And he’s not in the master file either,” Elijah says. “Lilah, he’s something else.”

  I look at the photo again and a sharp pang stabs deep in my chest.

  Dante snatches the phone from me. “We should get going. Lucy’s waiting.”

  He walks off toward his car, leaving the two of us alone.

  “Hey…” Elijah lays a hand on my shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say, gritting my teeth. “I’m just fine.”

 

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