by Flite, Nora
Kite flipped me over, leaving me disoriented. Pulling my knees to the floor, he put a hand on my lower back so my breasts spilled over the couch cushion. He spread me from behind, but I took it further, sliding my legs apart wantonly.
“Holy hell,” he groaned. I flushed, oddly proud that he liked the view.
With his thumbs holding me open, he entered without any friction.
All the tension was in my throat.
My moan was gritty, nails digging into the couch. I should have been numb by now, but my body was awake, atoms dancing and shouting.
He kissed the back of my neck, turned me so he could steal my tongue. Kite's teeth tugged my lower lip, hands solid as bear traps on my ass cheeks.
His body moved, a piston that slammed into me with sporadic rhythm. He wasn't like Jacob, he was more wild—spontaneous. It turned other parts of my mind on overdrive.
Kite fucked like a man who would never get to fuck again. He was devouring me, he couldn't get enough.
Everything Kite did, he did it in excess.
That included me.
He burned hot, scraping the tip of his cock along the roof of my pussy. Coiling up my hair, he forced me to bend my spine. It made my walls clamp harder, it also made me look up.
Jacob stood on the other side of the couch.
The sight of him made my heart spin. He'd put on his briefs, though they did little to hide his magnificent cock. At some point, he'd poured himself a drink. Now, sipping it, he watched me over the rim like I was a new toy he had big dreams for.
Behind me, Kite bit off a snarl. “Damn, you're so tight.” Grinding into me harder, he clutched a plump ass cheek—then smacked it. The sound was a whip-crack, my clit electrified by the vibrations.
A small gasp escaped me; it pushed Kite over the edge, his hold on me so severe my skull ached. The noise he made was inhuman, his passion tearing aside his mask. Kite was a devil, clawing at me as he rode out his own pleasure.
He created static, it charged between us, forcing us magnetically closer.
Sobbing, I endured the sudden orgasm that ripped through me. I hadn't felt it until it sucker punched me. It shredded my strength, left me slumping when Kite let go of my hair.
His cock was still pumping, his harsh groans unrestrained.
Kite wasn't embarrassed to show how I affected him.
Shivering, I laid there in a heap. The edges of my vision blurred, leaving me blind in the wake of this unforgettable night. I'd never been more satisfied or more exhausted.
I was going to be sore tomorrow.
Fingers trailed over the dip in my back, the wetness from my sweat made the trip slick.
Who did they belong to?
Kite stepped back, my pussy giving a pathetic twitch to keep him inside. He'd finished, but he was still solid as a rock.
Shadows fell over me, then the sound of soft footsteps hit my ears. They went on forever; a gentle thumping that danced in my ears, then my skull, and then deep in my heart.
I didn't know I was falling asleep until it was too late.
- Chapter 21 -
Kite
The apartment was warm, stuffy. I hadn't had much to drink, but my head was clogged like I had a hangover. I had to sit up slowly.
Where the fuck am I?
It wasn't my bed, and that made no sense.
Turning, I looked over the quiet, clean room, and recognized Jacob's place. It was still dark out, the windows showing a hint of blue. The clock on his microwave blinked at me. It's seven in the morning, what woke me up?
The blanket tumbled off of me when I sat up. On the opposite couch I saw my pants and jacket. They'd been folded neatly.
I remembered everything.
That other couch was where we'd bent Marina, tasting her sweet cries. Felt every curve of her body, left fingerprints on her soul. My cock was getting hard at the memory. Shifting myself in my boxers, I stood up.
I was feeling better, more clear headed. Yes, it hadn't been alcohol I'd been drunk on. I didn't need to purge this poison out of me.
There was a blanket on the other couch. Lifting it, I looked around curiously. Marina slept here. We were both so beat, Jacob just threw blankets on us when we passed out.
But her clothes were no where. Not even her shoes.
Rubbing my neck, I made a leap of logic. If her heels were missing, she must have left the apartment. Where had she gone?
I dressed quietly, promising myself I'd return the clothes to Jacob eventually. The hallway had an eerie vibe, the kind you got when everyone else in the world around you was sleeping.
I felt alone, the last man alive.
When I reached my door, I turned the knob—found it unlocked. Marina had a key, I'd given it to her after I'd finished moving her in. Now, she could get into my place and Jacob's.
She was unlocking more than our apartment doors, lately.
Cracking it, I found what I was searching for. Marina was facing away from me, sitting on the couch in front of the only light source she'd turned on—my television. The big flat-screen was flickering, the volume low. She was watching the news.
In her hands, she had a bowl of cereal. A mug was empty on the coffee table. I knew it had contained hot chocolate. How long had she been awake? She wasn't wearing that red dress anymore, she'd put on black stretch pants and a loose fitting white T-shirt.
In the glow of the TV, her tan skin was oddly blue.
She didn't hear me enter. I stood there, watching the back of her head, the way she would hold the spoon in her mouth for a long moment after each bite.
The channel she was watching was flashing through different things; the weather, current events, breaking coverage. I was just closing the door when I heard the man on the screen talking about something that prickled with unease.
He was discussing a body.
“—was found on the lower east side in an alley. Police say the body had been there for some time, but it has yet to be identified. So far, they haven't said if the death is suspicious.”
My eyes fixed on the TV. Marina hadn't stopped eating, her body language told me she didn't think this news was important.
I had other ideas.
The corpse was certainly Hecko's, the man Jacob had told me he'd learned Lars' name from.
Frank's nephew.
The news said it wasn't suspicious... yet. If Jacob was as confident as he seemed, then Hecko would look like an accident. An alcoholic who had choked on his own vomit.
Still, seeing the news talking about him made me nervous. Stepping forward, I put my foot down firmly—enough to make the floor squeak intentionally.
She jumped, twisting with the spoon held up as a weapon. Her eyes were wide. Beautiful. I loved how big they got when she was overwhelmed. Especially if I was the cause.
“Oh, Kite,” she said. “You scared me. I didn't hear you come in.” Turning back to the TV, she stirred her cereal.
Smiling, I sat on the arm of the couch closest to her. My hand wandered to the remote. “I didn't want to surprise you, sorry. When did you wake up?”
Her shrug was light. “I think an hour ago.”
Now that I was closer, I could see the wet fringes of her hair. She'd taken a shower and eaten, she'd been awake longer than an hour.
I had a pretty good idea what had woken her up. It was the same thing I'd heard yanking her from sleep, making her whimper in the early hours, the first night she'd spent here. Since then, I'd heard her having many more.
“The nightmares you have,” I said gently, seeing her stiffen. “What are they about?”
Marina pushed the wet clumps around in her bowl. “I guess it's stupid to try and ask what you're talking about.” Her lips pursed. It was a bitter look, I wanted to kiss it away. “Have I woken you up before? Am I that loud?”
“No,” I lied. “Just once or twice.”
She put the bowl aside, adjusting to face me. “When I was younger, I had to stay with an aunt of mine, after my fa
mily died. She didn't like me much, and I always suspected it was because I'd wake her up every night with my screaming.” Her dark eyes flashed away. “Sorry if it's bad for you. It was always bad for everyone.”
My mind was churning, imagining this woman waking anyone who dared to sleep near her with her sobs and whimpers. Her lack of friends... lovers... it made so much sense.
I said, “You really aren't that loud. I only noticed because...” Because I'd been listening. I couldn't say that. “Because my room is nearby.”
Marina stared at me, her smile fragile as a flower petal. “After my aunt passed on, I became a ward of the state. In the orphanage, the kids were always cruel. I mean, I understood why they didn't like me. It made sense. I'd hate anyone who screamed every night, too.”
My curiosity blossomed. “What about...”
“Boyfriends?” she teased, her intoxicating charm starting to show. “Yeah. I never keep them for long. Gets hard, having someone dump you because they can't spend the night.”
I was shaking my head side to side. “You left last night because a nightmare woke you up? Why didn't I hear you, then? I was only a few feet across from you on Jacob's other couch.”
Guilt flooded her face. Marina shut her eyes, black lashes running over her smooth cheeks. “I woke up before they began, after you two had fallen asleep. Probably around three, or something.” Blinking, she watched me from under her lifted eyebrows. She was so close, but she felt very far away. “I've been awake since then.”
Shaking my head, I reached down and grabbed the remote. The news was still talking about the body—I clicked it off, ignored her brief frown. “The noises you make aren't that bad. Believe me. You don't need to leave like that, not if—”
“It happens again?” She had cut me off, a challenge on her tongue.
Swelling with determination, I sat beside her and pulled her into my arms. My lips sought out her cheek, her forehead. She wasn't expecting this, she was knotted up and stiff.
I didn't care, I hugged her even harder.
“Yes,” I whispered. “When it happens again, I'm forbidding you from running away.”
Marina could have been a block of wood I was holding. “You'll start to hate me. If I keep waking you up with my stupid tears and sounds I can't control, you'll regret asking for this.”
“I'm not asking.” Gripping her chin, I made her look me in the eyes. “I'm telling. No more running. If you wake me up because of your nightmares, I'll just hold you like this... and we'll go back to sleep.” For emphasis, I squeezed her.
The laugh she let out was surprised. I adored it. “Who the hell are you?” she asked, her arms finally coming around to hold me. “I thought you were supposed to be some monstrous hitman.”
“I never called myself monstrous.” Kissing her, I brushed the side of her lip and smirked. “But I'm a hitman, sure. I'm also someone who gets what he wants.”
She leaned away, her soft palms sliding into my hair, holding my jaw. “And what do you want?”
“Right now?” Pushing her into the cushions, I buried my nose in her shoulder. “I want you, Marina. I want you... and I want you to tell me what your nightmares are about.”
Under me, she shivered violently. “You really want to know?”
“Yes. Of course I do.”
Her chest flared, lungs holding a single breath. “In my nightmares, I see that day. I see the men come inside. I relive it, over and over and over...” Trailing off, she dug her nails into my shoulder blades. Was she finding comfort in me? “Then Cece, my sister, she—she looks at me. Right at me, through the wall grate. I know she can see me. And she knows I know. She looks me in the eye, all while that... that fucking monster... rapes her.”
Shards of cold metal swam into my veins. This bastard—Lars Diani—he'd done that to a little girl?
The backs of my eyes itched. Nine years old. Oh yes, I understood the hatred Marina had.
I knew it better than most ever could.
“She understood she was going to die, and that I would survive. I watched her suffer, just sat there, watching. I could have... I could have...”
“Shh,” I hissed, clutching Marina against me. I wanted to crush the self-hate out of her. “You can't think that way.”
“I can,” she said flatly. There was a raw wetness in her voice, her rage keeping tears at bay. “It moves me forward. I see her every time I sleep, Kite. She's there. Accusing me.” Shaking like a leaf in the wind, she hugged me so hard my spine cracked. “I'll hate myself until I kill that man. When that happens, I'll be free. Then the nightmares can end.”
This burden she had would carry her into the grave. I was a hypocrite to lament how she'd die on this path. It would only happen if I let her—if Jacob and I made it happen.
We could save her. We could free her from the demons in her head.
But if we did, we'd risk our own safety.
Jacob wouldn't allow it. He wanted to push Marina where we needed, get the letter, then dispose of her. He was determined to get us out of the fucking river we were drowning in.
Thinking of my knuckle tattoos, of why I'd gotten them, I screwed my eyes shut.
I'd never said I was monstrous, but maybe I was.
Maybe I really was.
“In my nightmares,” she whispered suddenly, “Cece still looks at me after she's dead. She's bloody, chopped up, but she looks right at me and says what he said to my dad.”
Obey, or be killed.
That was the message Lars had left behind.
I couldn't take it. I couldn't tell her the truth, but keeping it from her was burning me up. I needed to know how to make this work. A plan that was so precise, it'd ensure she could live, but that she wouldn't jeopardize our future with what she knew about us.
I wouldn't let Jacob go to prison. I cared about him more than anyone else—he was my damn Blood Brother.
But what was Marina?
Where did this strange girl fall on my spectrum?
It was ripping my heart in two. I knew how she felt, knew exactly what she needed, and I could give it to her... just like Jacob had for me the day we'd made our oath.
My hand flexed, remembering.
“Kite,” she said softly.
“Yeah?”
“Why are you rocking me?”
Blinking, I realized I'd been holding her tight, swaying with her gently on the couch. It was ridiculous. What was wrong with me?
I eased away, sitting up. “Marina, I promised I would help you find your murderer. I really will. You believe me, right?”
She searched my face, then slid her hand into mine. The sensation was a jolt of bliss. “I do. And... thank you. You've helped me so much. I never expected to have a guardian angel.”
Her smile sliced up my conscience. Fuck, that hurt. I was no guardian, and certainly no angel. Everything she thought I'd done for her, it had all had a purpose. Most of it self-serving.
“I can't believe that guy tried to drug me last night,” she chuckled.
Prickles of sick shame washed down my back. “Yeah, what an asshole.”
I hadn't been able to stand watching him flirt with her. It had taken everything in me not to crack him in the jaw. Killing him would have been going too far, but hurting him... that would have been a pleasure.
Instead, I'd settled for intervening. Marina didn't need to know the truth.
The drink hadn't been drugged.
My lies were too many to count.
Sitting on the couch together, she snuggled against me in a way I never thought she would. It was comfortable, our hands linked. Just having her body touching mine was enough to rattle my senses.
I wanted this woman.
But did I want what was best for her?
Marina grabbed the remote, turning the TV back on. “Did you hear about the body they found?” she asked, reaching for her cereal, then stopping when she saw how ruined it was. “My old neighborhood still sucks, apparently.”
I just forced a smile. “Right. Hey, let's change it. Want to watch cartoons?”
Her eyebrows furrowed. I thought she might argue with me. There was doubt in her wickedly black eyes, a frown hovering on her lips.
When she spoke, relief hit me so fast I nearly choked. “I thought you'd never ask.”
The TV changed, dancing mice and spinning cars and a number of images that I didn't even absorb. It was a juxtaposition, such happiness in front of us while my brain ran in circles with its horrible visions.
Marina dead at the hands of Lars.
Marina dead... because of me.
All she wanted was revenge, to be able to end the life of a man who had no problem raping a child, of making her dad watch, of chopping them all to pieces and burning their business to the ground.
Lars had ordered the hit on his old acquaintance, Frank, and he'd threatened Hecko into silence.
But were Jacob and I any better?
This girl we were wrapped up in, hungering for more and more of, didn't we plan to end her because anything less was a risk?
Marina should know the truth.
If she did, she would hate us both.
So instead of that... instead of telling her about Lars Diana and risking everything we'd spent our lives building... I bit my tongue, and put on a cardboard smile.
Marina was oblivious. It was how it had to be.
No mistakes.
No risks.
She couldn't know we held the key that would lock her nightmares away.
- Chapter 22 -
Jacob
Kite hadn't stopped pacing.
His eyes were frantic, fingers alternating between jamming into his pockets and flexing at his sides. Kite wasn't capable of holding still.
For the third time, I offered him the bottle of whiskey and he waved it away. That was good, it was only ten in the morning. But it was also strange. Since when did Kite turn down booze?
“If you plan to keep me here,” I said, eyeing my watch, “Could you at least tell me why you're so upset?” He'd interrupted my Wednesday errands, catching me at the bar with my duffel bag full of gym clothes at my side.
It had been an ambush.
“I'm not upset.” Black eyes stabbed at me. “I'm just feeling like a real asshole right now.”
