by C. M. Owens
And fucking hell. I think Sarah set me up by telling me I was the one and only damn girl he’s been with. Which has to be utter bullshit, and I’m a gullible fool.
“Kill me. Kill me now,” I whine into the pillow.
Frustrated and completely mortified, I sit up, dropping the pillow reluctantly. I’d like to wear that pillow over my head for the rest of the day.
With somewhat angry motions, I hurriedly dress, groaning every time another sappy confession comes back to me.
I wanted to marry you and have babies back then. You know, before I realized exactly how screwed up I was.
“Fuck me. He never said anything back. That ass just let me run my mouth and would grin.”
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I hesitate walking out when another confession slips into my mind.
Your dick is the perfect size. I love it. I always have. I missed it too. I tried to find a vibrator to replicate it. I didn’t have any luck.
“Why, Kara? Just why?” I ask myself on a huff.
Annoyed with my own damn self, I jerk the door open, and…pause.
The knife is still stabbed into the door, and the note is still there. It’s not quite the simplistic request Rush made it seem to be.
Anyone who knocks will get shot.
I’m serious.
Deadly serious.
I’ll fucking shoot you and laugh about it.
—Rush
Excessive and crazier by the second.
Unbelievable.
I walk on out, taking a deep, fortifying breath.
I can hear the chatter coming from the kitchen, mostly Drake speaking.
“I’m saying I have a penis. At some point, someone with a penis should realize what a shit job it is to be stuck with the vagina squad during intense situations. I feel unappreciated, honestly.”
I roll my eyes, and I barely even know the guy.
“Do you want to roll with us, Drake?” Axle asks, sounding completely dry and humorless as always.
“Fuck that racket. I just want to ink shit and quit getting shot at,” Drake grumbles as my eyes immediately collide with Rush’s.
The dark hair is pinned back with a backwards ball cap, and a smug grin is on his face as he bites into an apple, his feet propped on the chair next to him. His eyes move with me, smirk still fixed to his lips, as I ignore him the best I can.
“Why are you five shades of red? You should be green, not red,” Sarah grumbles from her perched position near the cabinets.
She’s wearing sunglasses inside and is guzzling from a mug that has a bloody knife image on it. She lifts the mug toward me in a toasting gesture, and then begins drinking from it again.
I can feel Rush’s eyes burning a hole in my back as I make my own cup of coffee from the steaming pot.
Maya is in Axle’s lap, curled up like a doll and sleeping, and he’s acting like it’s a normal thing for her to do, given his easy position.
Rush pats his lap when he catches me staring, and I give him a small glare as his grin widens.
I’m going to be mercilessly mocked.
Even your feet are sexy. It’s like there’s not an inch of you that doesn’t have sex appeal. And I miss the way you used to hold me against you, so I’ve been purposely pressing against you at night, and even find your control issues sort of hot.
Kill. Me. Now.
The more memories that flood to the forefront of my mind, the harder I want to die a little from the sheer humiliation.
His eyebrows dance for a minute as he stares at me over the rim of his orange juice glass. An exaggerated sound of pleasure comes from him as he drinks the orange juice, likely mocking how very verbally I voiced my own pleasure last night to the point of exaggeration.
I screamed his damn name. Why did I do that? That’s not something people really do. That’s just a romance novel thing.
It takes a concentrated amount of effort not to palm my face and groan aloud.
“By the way, you two were entirely too fucking loud last night,” Drake cuts in, causing me to turn a little redder.
Please don’t let him have heard the actual words. That’s the embarrassing part.
“Hear anything interesting, Drake?” Rush quips in his wry tone, as he lifts his apple back up to his mouth, never taking his eyes off me.
“A lot of mewling and dick worship. Fucking ridiculous,” Drake says, glancing up from his phone to give me a pointed look. “For the record, mine’s pierced in a lot of fun places, and does way more tricks than his. I highly doubt it’s as special as you made it out to sound,” the prick adds.
That’s it. I may as well put a potato sack over my head at this point.
Axle chokes on his drink, clears his throat, and stares at his phone like he’s lost interest with this entire breakfast table. He’s a pretty serious guy. Drake isn’t, and for some freaking reason, he’s the conversational type.
“Ply her with liquor, and she’s very generous with her compliments,” Rush tells Drake.
“I’ve seen her drunk aplenty, and she’s usually not nice,” Axle states without looking up from his phone.
“You’re not as special as I am,” Rush tells him with that smirk back on his face.
“Are you going to gloat all morning—”
“It’s midafternoon, dear,” Rush interrupts with a mock southern drawl. “I decided to let you take your time recovering from the marathon.”
“Didn’t even get laid and had to sit up all night listening to two couples fucking on either side of me. Maya’s not exactly tight-lipped,” Drake gripes, pouring sugar in his coffee and devoting his attention to it. “But at least she doesn’t describe her man’s dick’s shape, color, and size in graphic, generous detail.”
I finally slap a hand over my face, groaning loudly, deciding I hate Drake. If I was crazy enough to shoot him, I’d do it right this very second.
“Nothing was exaggerated,” Rush says with an I’m-pleased-with-myself sigh as he continues to simply watch every single expression on my face.
Knocking his feet out of the chair, I take a seat, as he lazily drops his feet to the ground, smirk never wavering.
Maya chooses that moment to snore, and Axle continues staring at his phone like it’s still just a normal thing. I find it weirdly sweet.
“You really can sit on my lap,” Rush says, leaning closer to me as he sips his orange juice.
My glare grows stronger, and his grin spreads wider as he bites into his apple. Orange juice and apple…bad combination, if you ask me.
“I hate the couples in this club. So fucking weird,” Drake mumbles.
“Personally, I hate you because you’re the one who started all this couple chatter, and I’m still nursing a broken heart,” Sarah states in a bland tone as she walks out.
“Probably best not to put the delusional, scary, crazy assassin in a foul mood,” Axle states as he stands abruptly, lifting Maya with him as he carries her out like she’s a doll.
“I hardly think I’m delusional,” Sarah states with complete seriousness as she blinks innocently, taking offense to only one of Axle’s labels.
“Finally. Let’s get the hell out of here,” Drake says as he follows them out, not even glancing at Sarah.
“Is he always an asshole?” I ask, finishing off my coffee.
Rush leans over abruptly, and I go stiff as he runs his lips along my jaw. “How much of that did you mean last night?” he asks more seriously, gently brushing my bed-head hair off my shoulder.
“I probably meant all of it, but I regret the stupidity that leaked out. So let’s stop talking about it, please,” I tell him as I stand and quickly follow them out.
A hand suddenly comes around my middle, and Rush hauls my back against his front, while his other hand grabs a generous amount of my ass.
I’m positive he’s about to mock me more, when he says, “We’ll discuss the highlights later, when you’re ready to be mature.”
He releases me abruptl
y and struts away with that smug expression back on his face. He’s saying I’m immature? I’m scared to look at the world from his eyes at this point.
“I think I’ll ride with Drake,” I tell him, walking over to yank the passenger side door open.
Maya grumbles some unintelligible sound from the backseat before she stretches out like she’s trying to get comfortable. In the next second, she’s snoring again.
“I’m surprised Rush isn’t hauling me out of here and forcing me to ride on the back of his bike,” I note, idly wondering if I’m seriously annoyed with the fact he’s just going to let me ride with Drake.
I have issues. This is why it’s not okay for me to be in love with Rush. I’m an idiot when I’m in love.
“I’m confused. He already said you’d be riding with me. That’s why I was bitching about being stuck with the vagina squad when you walked in,” Drake tells me with a furrowed brow, while I glare at the back of Rush’s helmet.
I’m that predictable to that asshole. How did that happen?
“Axle was just going to let Maya sleep, since the two of them stayed at it even longer than the two of you. I was starting to think I was stuck in the middle of a fuck-off. Get it?” Drake prattles on, while I cross my arms over my chest.
Rush starts his bike up, and he begins driving in front of us. Drake hurriedly pulls out behind him, driving a random SUV that seems to have come from thin air.
“I guess we really did get hit last night,” Drake notes as Rush weaves by a felled tree that is taking up half the road.
A few powerlines are down, and numerous vehicles have been wrecked and abandoned on one stretch of highway.
“Sheesh. Usually that siren blows and we don’t even get straight-line winds,” he says, sitting up straighter, as we both take in all the damage.
Some houses have had the roofs ripped off, or they’ve been hit by mid-size trees. Glass is all over the road and on the sidewalks.
Axle is behind us, keeping a lot of space between us so he has a better visual of anything obstructing the roads.
“If it hasn’t been cleaned up yet, it’s because Halo got hit harder and it’ll take priority,” I murmur absently, lips pursing.
I prop my feet up on the dash as I lean back my seat. We’re having to drive slow because of all the debris scattered around.
“Must have been a bitch of a twister,” he says as he lifts his phone to his ear.
Maya grumbles something about him being too loud.
Drake ignores her as he talks into the phone. “Eve, leave the hospital at some point and check your damn messages.”
He hangs up, rolling his eyes.
“She can’t have her phone on inside that room,” he gripes. “She used to be my friend more than Dash’s, but now I think she’s more his friend than mine.”
“Maybe you should have gotten shot,” Maya fires back, groaning as she turns over on the seat.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that myself,” I quip with a cheery smile as I bat my lashes over at him.
“I need better friends,” Drake states matter-of-factly.
I’m not sure why I smile. I suppose you’re automatically friends when you survive a shootout in a warehouse full of mafia goons together.
“Well, Halo is definitely trashed,” I say as we come through the carnage that has been raked to the sides of the streets.
Rush leads us through the downed powerlines and the mostly powerless city, as people sit outside and fan themselves. It’s a box-fan-in-the-window sort of crisis, judging by all the apartment buildings doing just that.
He stops outside the hangar, and Drake pulls up at his shop across the street.
Axle parks just outside the hangar, and Rush hops off his bike, heading toward the front door.
I watch, because I’m somewhat surprisingly annoyed that after all my stupid, drunken confessions, he’s all of the sudden…no longer all over me.
At my huff, Maya pokes her head up beside me. “Problem?”
“Men,” I mutter as I hop out, slamming the door behind me.
“You girls chill with Drake for a bit,” Axle says as he walks over, blocking my path as he looks in on Maya. “We’ve got some club business to handle, and some of the out-of-towners are here. It’ll be best if I don’t have to hurt someone today.”
Maya glances down her body. “I look like I’m homeless. Surely they aren’t that hard-up for female companionship,” she states dryly, eyes swinging back up to meet his as she arches an eyebrow.
“Not worth the risk. Trust me, especially with this lot,” Drake groans as he hops out as well, heading inside.
“You could go shopping,” Axle suggests.
Maya’s eyebrows almost hit her hairline.
“Why the hell would I go shopping looking like this?” she asks incredulously.
“Since when are you so concerned with how you look in public?” he fires back with notable condescension.
Her brow creases in confusion this time.
“Or I could get a new tattoo while we’re waiting,” she suggests.
He shrugs a shoulder. “Not in Drake’s shop. Head over to that butterfly place you keep talking about. Get one there. Drake touches you again, and I’m going to have to remove his money-makers.”
He slaps the side of the SUV, and I lean against it.
“Take her with you,” he calls over his shoulder, weirdly not speaking my name…
“All that seem as suspicious to you as it did to me?” I ask Maya, staring over at the clubhouse as he averts the front door and moves around the side.
Rush has already disappeared inside.
“Axle’s not really a subtle sort of guy, and it’s very obvious when he tries to be,” she murmurs, her own eyes following him as he ducks into an alley next to the oversized building.
“Rush will hardly let me pee out of his line of view unless he’s planning on killing people,” I go on, the words barely a whisper as dread begins inching up my spine.
My eyes dart up to some of the powerlines broken and dangling around here, and a disturbing thought occurs to me.
“Let’s head inside for now,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and dragging her into Drake’s.
The second we’re behind closed and locked doors, I grab Maya by both her shoulders.
“My facial recognition software has been disabled by the storm last night,” she says very quietly, eyes slanting toward the door. “The guys picked up on that first, didn’t they?”
Drake sighs long and hard before dropping to a chair.
“That’s it. I’m moving my shop to another town,” he states with all seriousness. “Fuck this racket.”
A distinct round of clicks has us all jerking our attention to the back, and Drake sucks in a breath of surprise. I slowly shut my eyes after spotting four guns trained on us.
My jaw tenses as Maya’s fingers lace with mine, squeezing my hand.
“Don’t worry, Drake. I still appreciate a good artist, so you don’t have to die today,” a man states.
“I’m guessing you’re here for Kara, so why don’t you just leave my other friend with me?” Drake asks in too calm of a way.
My eyelids slowly lift again, as someone snorts.
The four guys are in Death Dealer cuts, stoically eyeing us, sans for the one Drake is talking to. That guy puts his gun away, shrugging.
“Sorry. We’re all taking a walk across the street right now. It’s best if no one tries to be a hero,” he tells Drake.
“We should have gone shopping,” Drake says as he gives us both a pointed look.
As one goon opens the door for us, I swallow the bile back, and ignore the sick knot twisting in my stomach.
Gunshots startle me before I even make it all the way outside. Those came from inside the warehouse where Rush is…
I stumble, eyes widening as my heartbeat all but stalls.
Someone shoves me from behind, saying something, but my heartbeat is all that’s in my ears
as that knot expands with the next two bouts of gunfire.
The door opens just as we cross the street, and one of Pop’s flunkies starts glaring at me. The only thing my eyes are searching for when I cross the threshold with zero resistance is Rush.
And I stumble over my own two feet when I finally spot him face down with a puddle of blood around him.
That’s when my knees give out and my heartbeat goes still.
“What do you know, Dash was right. That really is Kara. Now that I see her up close, I can tell,” someone says.
“I told you to clear him out of here,” a familiar voice drawls, even as I continue to stare straight ahead at Rush’s lifeless body. “I didn’t come here for her, but I’d like to enjoy her being lucid and not catatonic as I cut her spoiled tongue out.”
I’m dizzy. Sick. So sick.
Rush’s body is motionless, and the blood continues to spread from him. His back isn’t rising and falling to signal his chest is doing the same.
No breaths.
No movement.
No.
No.
No.
“No!” I shout as a slightly aged version of my father steps into my line of view, crouching beside the lifeless body.
His eyes level mine with a cool, sinister look, but I’m barely keeping my knees locked enough to hold me up.
“Welcome home, dear. I finally got rid of that boy who caused you so many problems. Show daddy some gratitude,” the twisted son of a bitch says as his grin only grows.
My knees slam the concrete when standing finally becomes too difficult, and the edges of my vision dim before it all goes black.
Chapter 32
KARA
“I want to spend my life with you, because I’m tired of wasting the chance to live on simply existing,” I whisper across Rush’s lips as I come down on top of him, ready to blow his mind with all my best moves from the top.
He rarely gives me the top.
He drags me down by the back of my neck, hungrily kissing me as I slide down on him, moaning at how good it continues to feel to have him inside me.
“I don’t want to leave this bedroom. Let’s just start our lives and leave Halo tomorrow,” I add.
