by Flite, Nora
But if they hadn't... I would never have been free.
I wouldn't have gone on living.
They had saved each other, and then in the end, they had saved me.
With their warm bodies on either side of me, our pulse in sync with the cuts throbbing on our palms, I wondered if maybe... just maybe...
I had saved them, too.
- Epilogue -
Kite
Shoving the groceries onto the counter, I wiped my brow and sighed. Did this girl really need so much hot cocoa? Screwing up my face, I packed the boxes away. I was beyond happy that I had a reason to buy this stuff.
I'd fill my apartment with it, if she only asked.
The bandage on my hand crinkled, shiny in the light of the sun that streamed through my window. It had been a few days since the confrontation on that back road. At times, my heart still bounced rapidly when I thought about how we'd sped after Marina through the night.
Waking, finding her gone and discovering the letter... it had been a blur of decisive moments. Jacob had watched me when I'd held the paper out to him, stayed silent as I ranted about how stupid she was to hand it to us. I'd paced and raved and cracked my knuckles.
I'd been furious that we were forced to make a choice.
The luxury of waiting was over with.
The part I hadn't expected... was Jacob.
He'd taken the letter, held it to my stove's burner. With smoke curling, he dropped it in the sink and watched it turn black. His words were flat, calm, and they rattled my brain.
“We need to hurry. It might be too late.”
Jacob was never rash. Something had snapped in him. With my GPS guiding us, we'd burned rubber. I still didn't know what we were going to do, or what we'd find.
A living, breathing Marina?
Or her dead body?
The shot he'd taken at Lars when we found him trying to choke her, it had been meant for the man's head. Jacob had planned to kill him, ignoring any promise we'd ever made to Marina.
His genuine distress had made him miss his shot. The first time in many years.
I understood his fury. Seeing her on the ground, struggling under that monster, had driven me mad.
But she'd deserved her right to exact revenge.
When we'd stood on the scene after that, her body tied up in Jacob's trunk, he'd taken me by the hand. His grip was tight, brutal. The torment in his face mirrored mine on the morning I'd sparred with him; when I'd argued for Marina's future.
“She saved me,” he said, never breaking eye contact. “That day in the club, she kept my identity from being revealed to a dangerous man. Even if she broke her promise and failed our test... she saved me. She didn't have to, but she fucking did.” His forearm was bulging under his sleeve. “How can we sentence her to death after everything she's done for us?”
The buzzing in my head became a raging hurricane. Crushing his palm, I yanked him in and hugged him roughly. “You really want to save her?” I asked, willing my voice not to shake.
“Yes. I really do.”
I met my best friend's stare and nodded. “Guess we better clean this shit up, then. What's the point in letting her live if the cops put us all in jail later?”
After that, we'd driven her upstate, all the way to the place we'd made our first kill.
It had been a challenge for me to expose Marina to my past. My old life, my childhood, was the most vulnerable and hated part of me. Telling my story had left me hollow. But she had to know.
It was the only way.
Now, standing at my window, I made a fist.
Two scars burned on my flesh, old and new.
This wasn't the future I had dreamed of, but now, I couldn't imagine anything else.
Nothing was as right as what we shared.
Marina had been the one thing missing from my existence.
Finally...
I had a purpose again.
Jacob
She stood with her back to me, a vision of ethereal beauty.
The graveyard was blossoming, green with the coming spring. Marina's hair was down, blowing in the breeze in lazy curls. I was filled with the desire to wrap my hands in it, brush it over my cheeks as I listened to her breathe.
Breathe.
I couldn't get over the fact she was still alive.
Watching her from the shade of a tree, I waited. Interrupting her would have been wrong, this was an important moment for her.
She'd set out to get vengeance, and she'd completed that task. Marina's chains had been removed. Peace was slow in coming, though.
Kite and I had both woken to her nightmares, but over the last week, they'd become shorter.
Softer.
She always slept better with us nestled at her side.
Turning, she lifted a hand, capturing her dark strands as they blew into her face. Coiling them behind an ear, her eyes went to the sky. I wanted to see what she did. Whatever it was, it made her smile.
Spotting me, Marina waved, heading across the grass. For the occasion, she'd put on a flowing, butter-yellow dress that waved around her knees. I loved her no matter what she wore, but seeing her so angelic was stirring me up.
Leaning off of the tree, I took my hands from my jacket pockets. I planned to cup my fingers on her cheeks, but she beat me.
Tan arms snaked around my neck, she stood on tiptoe to reach me with her kiss. It was quick, too quick. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
Smiling sideways, I hooked my hands around her middle. “Anabelle insisted I get some air. She said I'd been inhaling more paint fumes than I realized.”
“So you came and found me?” Lifting an eyebrow, she cocked her head. “It's only been a few hours, did you miss me that badly?”
Thumbing her chin, I tilted her jaw up and spoke with cool intensity. “I miss you every second you're out of my sight.” Her blush was a treasure.
Clearing her throat, she stepped back, sliding her fingers into my hand. Our bandages touched. “It's strange,” Marina whispered. Facing towards the cemetery, she looked like she was listening to the wind. It jostled the leaves over our heads. “I'm still having trouble believing it's over.”
Pushing her hair off of her collar bone, I drew her to my side. It was where she belonged. “When Kite and I killed his uncle, I don't think we slept well for weeks. Maybe months.” She angled her face, staring up at me. “Sometimes the scars we carry take time to heal over. Even if the wounds were made for a good reason.”
Her lips glistened, parting and begging to be touched. “I wanted to ask you something,” she said gently. “Your Gram... and your father... what ever happened to them, do you know?”
It was my turn to smile sadly. “My dad killed himself in the psych ward. I didn't know until I was a teen, I looked him up and found his obituary. As for Gram...” Shaking myself, I gazed over the tombstones. They made me think of my younger brother's funeral.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Nodding, I said, “The day we made our bond, Kite and I cleaned up at his uncle's home. I knew we needed to leave, and fast, but I wanted to see her. My nostrils flared from my brisk inhale. “I told her I loved her. She looked up from the TV long enough to tell me that she loved me, too.”
I love you too, Bill.
Lifting her hand, I kissed where the scar was hidden. I said, “She called me my father's name. By then, I was never Jacob to her.”
Wet hurt flooded Marina's eyes. She did me the courtesy of not allowing her tears to spill. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “That must have been hard.”
The wind was cool on my neck. “If she'd been more clear headed, she might have begged me to stay. In a way, her dementia was a favor.” The memory was a pit in my stomach. Rejection made leaving easy, but it had helped form the shell around my heart.
A shell Marina had chiseled through.
Reminding myself that my past was not my present, I hugged her to me and kissed her forehead. Together, we huddled
in the shade of the tree and listened to our heartbeats.
My phone buzzed, and without looking, I knew it was Kite. “Come on,” I said, leading her down the slope. “He'll be wondering where we both are. Let's not make him worry.”
Laughing clear as a silver bell, she tugged me down the sidewalk. “Hurry up, then! I want to see what my new room looks like! You've kept me out of your apartment for too long, were you building me a damn castle?” she teased.
We'd moved her belongings from storage, dividing them between Kite's place and my own. He couldn't hog her any longer; Marina's spare room in my place was finished, and I'd gone to great lengths to prepare it to her liking.
The surprise closet full of expensive clothes that I'd prepared would either impress her, or make her furious.
Both of those reactions would delight me.
Following that smiling girl down the street, my heart enveloped my entire chest. It could have burst, surely no man was meant to feel so happy. This was as close to perfection as I would ever reach.
Kite and I had struggled our whole lives. We'd fought, we'd killed, and we'd suffered.
Nothing had brought us true joy.
But now, that had changed. We had changed.
In this brutal world, with Marina at our side?
We'd finally found our paradise.
THE END
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A Bonus Chapter: The Bad Boy Arrangement
- Chapter One -
Abell
It had been three days and five hours since my last fuck.
Well, give or take.
I could be wrong about the hour.
Either way, I was antsy as hell. Going this long was like keeping water from a man in the desert. I could survive for awhile, sure, but I knew myself. If I didn't find a nice pair of thighs to dive between, I'd be useless to the world.
So, really, it was for everyone's benefit that I got laid.
I had a few places I liked to roam when I was scouting for a playmate. Bars are stereotypical, but they work—especially if you like the college crowd. Clubs? They were too sweaty for my mood.
Tonight, I'd gone a little out of the way.
The rock concert was in a park that had been strung up with Christmas lights along the fringes. An invigorating chill infused the night air. All in all, it wasn't a bad scene. I just wish the damn speakers weren't numbing my ears, I thought with a chuckle.
The band had been playing for twenty minutes, but I couldn't have repeated any of their lyrics. My attention was devoted to scouring the rolling bodies for my next prize.
There were women everywhere, thank fucking goodness. Skinny types in painted on jeans, curvy girls with their tits fluffing out... you name it, they were here in droves.
I was in Heaven.
As I swayed casually to the music, I moved with grace through the packed bodies. The smell of spilled beer weighed the air down, making me glad the venue was outdoors. The space—like every event in this city—was too small to hold everyone comfortably.
Speaking of too small. To my left, a woman in a skirt that barely hid her ass was grinding at the air. Her hair was slicked back in a high tail, makeup clinging around her eyes like she was auditioning for a movie about Egypt.
She was trying way too hard.
I love the Try-Hards.
They were the kind of girl you knew was looking to get some cock. Their actions said, 'I'm right here, just insert tab A into slot B and let's go!' My type, entirely; women who knew what they wanted never failed to get my pants tight.
Grinning, I slid beside her, my hips rocking with the tempo. Wordlessly, not even meeting my eyes, Skirt-Girl humped the air until she was inches away from me. Her hips twisted, towering heels barely moving off the grass—maybe so she wouldn't fall and break an ankle.
In seconds we were swaying together, her round ass touching my zipper. That long length of hair brushed her neck, tempting me to reach out and grab it.
I hoped she liked having her hair pulled, because once I got her alone, I planned to yank it back so I could nibble her pale neck. Just thinking about that has me getting stiff. Carefully, I adjusted myself in my pants, never missing a beat.
The music suddenly exploded, turning into applause. Skirt-Girl slowed down, acting like she was watching the stage, but I knew better. This game and I were old friends.
Running a hand through my hair, I smiled at her until she glanced my way. It's funny, we hadn't said hello, but I'd had my erection on her ass for several minutes. “Hey,” I said, nodding at the band. “I think they're finishing their set. Come take a break with me, get some air.”
Cocking her head, Skirt made a show of toying with the top of her halter. “How about you buy me a drink first?”
I wasn't surprised by her request. Try-Hards sometimes want you to buy them something before they'll sleep with you. It's an exhausting ritual, but what did I care? Cash was never a problem for me, I'd had it in spades my whole life.
“Sure, I'll be right back, Sugar. What do you want?”
Her eyes darted down, fixing on the front of my jeans for a long second. Oh, she was good. “A beer is fine. For now.”
For now.
Jeez. Try-Hards are seriously the best.
“Beer. Not a problem, you just hang here.” My smile touched my eyes, then I was off. I knew where the nearest vendor selling alcohol was, I'd already chugged a bottle down when I'd first arrived. The problem was that they were as far from the stage as you could get.
Shoving around dancing groups and chatting people, I beat a path towards the drink stand. It was past ten, the sky a rich blue-black that would never be truly dark, not with all of the city's light pollution.
The edge of the park had a few tall lamps, the people thinning until I didn't feel like I was being crushed in a tuna can. Most folks wanted to be near the stage, so the fringe was almost empty in comparison.
There, I thought, walking towards the small table in the distance. Buy some beer and hurry the fuck back before little miss Skirt finds another cock to ride.
“Get the fuck away from her!” A voice shouted out from my right. On instinct, I turned to look.
Just down the grassy hill, away from the crowds, there was a woman. Reddish hair, black pants, a surprisingly demure cream colored top and appropriate jacket for the weather. Pretty. Normal. But the situation she was in wasn't normal at all.
She had her hands on a man's arm, yanking at him to get him away from...
Oh, shit.
There was another girl, and she was kneeling on the grass at the guy's feet, doubled over like she'd taken a punch. Had that guy actually hit her?
“I said get away from her!” The red head was pulling at the man. There was no hint of fear, even though he could easily break her damn skull. Her short black heels dug into the ground. She meant business.
What was going on? And why was no one else doing anything?
Not my problem, I told myself, glancing at the drink stand. Visions of Skirt-Girl danced in my head. Her plump lips, her perky ass, her—
“I'm calling the cops, you son of a—Aaah!”
Red was a damn ghost to me, I had no clue who she was. Regardless, when I heard her scream, I bolted down that hill at breakneck-speed.
His fingers were crushing her forearms, turning the skin bloodless. Seconds before I careened into the group, I saw Red's face. Instead of terrified about how he was ready to split her in two, she was pissed this guy had dared to touch her.
Who was this woman?
Grabbing the man's shoulders, I yanked him to me, forcing him to release Red. Then, before he could get his balance, I shoved him away violently. He stumbled, catching himself at the last second.
“Hey, Fuck-Head!” I shouted, cracking my knuckles. “What the hell are you doing to these two?”
I wasn't som
e breed of hero; this was none of my business. But no one else had stepped up.
How could I sit back and watch?
The big guy stomped forward, eyeballing me—sizing me up. “This isn't your problem, buddy. Why don't you get out of here before you get hurt?”
I knew he could see the muscles through my tight shirt and open jacket. I'd dressed to impress the ladies, but it also warned the world that I was no push-over.
If this guy thought I'd be an easy mark, he was dead wrong.
Standing taller, I flashed my best smile. “A lovely woman in a skimpy skirt is waiting for me to return, and you just cock-blocked that plan. Someone has to pay for that, might as well be the asshole beating on his girlfriend.”
To my left, Red made a face. “I'm not his girlfriend, and neither is she.”
“You're both single? Good to know.” I blessed her with a quick smirk. The way her eyes widened had my heart beating faster.
Unfortunately, I had other priorities.
The big asshole lifted his chin, chest puffed out like a rooster. “Last chance, get lost or get ready to collect your teeth off the grass. Hope you have a good dentist.”
“Holy shit,” I laughed. “Did you really just say that? Like, actually say that out loud?”
Lines crawled across the bridge of his nose, a snarl if I'd ever seen one. Talking this out was a failure. I'd already figured it would be. Any guy that'd attack a woman had to be short-tempered.
Ducking low, he ran right at me.
I'd taken some martial arts classes when I was a teen. Nothing serious, basic body-movement and leverage shit. My mother's idea, of course—she wanted me to know how to protect myself from the 'bad kids.' I don't think it occurred to her that I was one of those kids.
If she was still alive, I would have thanked her for those lessons now.
Anticipating his movements, light on my toes, I tensed up. When he got close, I darted to the side. It didn't take much momentum—he was the one rushing me—for my fist to slam into his guts.
The noise he made was awful, like a balloon deflating while it dribbled wetness.
