Complete Innocence Boxset

by Stasia Black

  “Got ‘em,” Marcus reported, and checked his gun before turning and taking Cora from Sharo. She threw her arms around Marcus.

  A second later, though, he was pulling back from her.

  “You ok?” He touched her cheeks and gripped her arms, grabbing her wrists and turning them frantically to inspect her hands.

  Oh gods, he must think— “It’s not my blood,” she said hurriedly.

  He pulled her to him, hugging her close.

  “Never again,” he muttered. “Never again.”

  Cora sagged into her husband, letting her shaking subside in his strong arms. He was here. He was safe. They were both safe and AJ was gone. It was going to be okay. It was all going to be okay.

  That was when she heard the police sirens.

  Close.

  Too close.

  Marcus’s muscles tensed. “What the—” he started. Cora looked up to see him glaring at Sharo over her head.

  Sharo was already taking a headpiece from the driver and tuning in.

  “Police band says an unmarked beige car was followed to the docks. Shots fired.”

  Marcus cursed. “AJ. Stupid to the last. He must’ve been tailed here.”

  Oh. Shit.

  It hit her all at once. There hadn’t been any interference with her mic or the button camera. Pete had seen and heard every single thing that had gone on in AJ’s safe house.

  And he’d decided he wanted a bigger bust after overhearing AJ talk about the drug shipment. No matter that Cora had said the safe word and tried to get her and Iris out before—

  Cora squeezed her eyes shut. The cops had betrayed her. And Iris had died because of it.

  Blue and red police lights were already washing over the brick walls as the car slunk away down a back alley.

  Cora nestled closer to Marcus, feeling sick even as she did it. Because Pete’s wasn’t the only betrayal of the night.

  She’d betrayed Marcus. She lied to him. Conspired with his enemies. Brought the cops to his very doorstep.

  “Sir, another report. This one from the club, Elysium,” the driver spoke up.

  At Marcus’s nod, the man continued. “Rioting started right after intermission. The Orphan came on and told everyone he was only going to play one more song. A song for the dead.”

  The man paused, touching his headpiece as if he wasn’t sure if what he was hearing was true. “Cops tried to settle everybody but they revolted, rushed the stage. The cops were overwhelmed. They got the mayor out first, and helped the people who were getting trampled.”

  The man grimaced. “But they didn’t get to the stage on time. The Orphan was…torn apart. They say there’s no other word for it… He’s dead.”

  Cora jerked then, feeling horror jolt through her just when she’d been sure she didn’t have any more capacity for grief.

  Marcus’s arms flexed briefly, as if he was trying to comfort her. Her. When she was the one who’d brought this all down on their heads.

  Twenty-Six

  Cora had fallen asleep in his arms, curled against his chest, his shirt squeezed in her blood covered fists even in sleep. Like she was terrified he’d disappear.

  Marcus tried to keep his arms soft and gentle around her but it was hard when every muscle in his body was tense with fury. What the hell had happened tonight? How had AJ gotten his hands on her—

  Marcus wanted reports from every single one of his lieutenants but he didn’t even reach for his phone. He didn’t dare dislodge his wife. Whatever she had been through tonight—

  The car slowed and she roused, lifting her head from his chest and slowly blinking, looking around. They were at the Estate. She frowned when she recognized where they were.

  “Do we have to stay here?” she said in a small voice. “It’s so…dark here.”

  “The penthouse was bugged,” Sharo said. “We had it swept.”

  It was Marcus she turned her head towards, though. “AJ?”

  Marcus didn’t answer. He didn’t trust himself to speak. When the car stopped, he helped her inside.

  She gasped when she caught a glance of herself in a mirror in the foyer. Blood garishly streaked her light hair. And it was all over her hands… Marcus grimaced. He’d hoped to get her in the shower before she saw herself. Her gaze darted away and she started up the stairs.

  Marcus wanted to follow her but there were things that had to be attended to.

  “I’ll be right up, babe.”

  She nodded, not even looking over her shoulder at him. Marcus’s jaw set, but then he turned to Sharo.

  “You order clean up?” Marcus asked.

  He could feel Cora hovering on the landing, paused just out of sight. For whatever reason, she wanted to hear what he had to say. Fine. He had nothing to hide. He’d tried to protect her from all of this and it had only—it had only—

  “What about Waters?” he demanded, glaring at Sharo.

  “He’s been alerted, but that was before the shipment was confiscated. He’ll know now; it’s been on the police scanners.”

  Marcus nodded slowly. “What about our contacts?”

  “MIA. Still dealing with the fallout.”

  “Get them on the phone. I’ve got to make sure—” Marcus glanced up the stairs, all but feeling Cora shrink back into the shadows.

  Sharo said, “Do you have any idea how he snatched her?”

  “No,” Marcus whispered under his breath. “I’ll wait before I ask her.”

  He heard the softest scuffle on the stairs above. Cora was continuing on to their room. And again the question plagued him: what the hell had happened to put her in AJ’s path? The Estate was the most fortified place in the city. Had she gone somewhere? Tried to go see a friend or to visit that damn shelter because of some so-called ‘emergency’?

  A few minutes later, he finished up with Sharo and took the stairs two at a time. When he got to their bedroom, he found Cora on the bed, head bent over her lap. She hadn’t turned any lights on so the room was dark and gloomy apart from the tiniest sliver of moonlight coming in through the blinds.

  He went to the bed side table and turned on a lamp, then moved around to view her blood-spattered front.

  “Let’s get you clean.”

  She nodded and walked into the bathroom, but froze in front of the sink.

  Marcus followed her.

  “My hands.” She held them out, palms up. “I don’t want to get blood on everything.”

  She retreated as he came to the sink and turned on both taps. He tested the water then stepped away so she could approach. They still weren’t touching each other.

  He ached to hold her, but her face was blank, still and hollow as a doll’s. She might need him or she might need space. He’d wait and see which.

  With robotic movements she thrust her hands under the tap, wetting them almost to mid-arm. The water ran red and she jerked her hands out of the flow.

  Marcus’s throat got thick but he stood behind her then, his arms along hers. He put her hands back in the water, and helped her lather with soap and scrub them gently, until the water ran clean. Her bowed head hung as if she was somewhere else, unattached from her hands.

  She was still in the bloodied clothes, though, and that wouldn’t do. With gentle hands, Marcus pulled her shirt off over her head.

  She let him do it, like a limp rag doll. When he reached for the button of her jeans, she suddenly jerked away and unbuttoned them herself, sliding them down her thighs along with her underwear and stepping towards the shower.

  But Marcus wasn’t letting go of her that fast. She might have needed to cling to him in the Bentley on the way over here but he— Seeing that gun pointed to her temple—

  He yanked his own clothes off and then stepped in behind her right as the spray turned warm.

  “Marcus,” Cora whispered and in that one word he heard a thousand heartbreaks. She turned toward him, arms folded to her chest, and fell against him. He wrapped a firm arm around her and pulled her to hi
s chest, his other hand pushing her hair back from her eyes.

  “Shh, it’s all right. It’s all right.”

  She just kept shaking her head. “It’s not, though. It’s not.”

  “Yes it is. You were brave. I watched you.” He walked her back a little into the spray to wet her hair. Then he lifted her shampoo bottle and squeezed some into his hand.

  He talked softly as he began to work the shampoo through her hair, cleaning out the blood. “You couldn’t have done more, Cora.”

  At her name, she shut her eyes and her entire body shook. Like she was reliving whatever AJ had put her through. Marcus had examined her hands in the car and knew the blood wasn’t hers, but still. His jaw flexed.

  AJ would pay and he would pay dearly. But Marcus couldn’t think about that right now. He had to stay in control for her sake. Always in control.

  So, with supreme effort, he managed to keep his voice calm as he continued, “He thought you were weak. He underestimated you. Tonight was tough. I don’t know what you went through and you don’t have to tell me until you’re ready. But you’re stronger than you know.”

  He worked his fingers through her hair, washing all the suds out. She leaned her forehead against his chest as he rinsed her hair. Once it was clean, he dropped his lips to the top of her head. “Don’t make the same mistake. Know your own strength. You’ll get through this.”

  He waited, but she didn’t say anything. That was all right. He would help her through, one day at a time. He would protect her.

  Just like you did tonight? He gritted his teeth. She should have been safe here. He’d find out what had gone wrong and punish whoever had put his wife in danger. Starting with that motherfucking bastard, AJ. He’d make the man wish he’d never set eyes on Marcus’s wife. Marcus would make him wish he’d never been born. He’d —

  Cora stirred in his arms and all of his attention came back to her. Large blue eyes blinked up at him, so full of sorrow. And then she shocked him with her next words. “Will you fuck me? I don’t want to think any more.”

  Marcus had been angling his hips away from her for the whole shower. Any time he was around his wife but especially when she was naked, he couldn’t help his body’s reaction to her. Now wasn’t the time though—

  But she reached down and grasped him so firmly he couldn’t help the groan that slid from his throat. And when she lifted a leg around his waist and positioned him at her entrance, gods, the way her heat tempted and teased the head of his cock—

  "Please," she breathed out.

  In one swift movement, he turned them around so that her back was to the wall and then he pushed inside her. Usually, he would thrust all the way in, taking and claiming what was his.

  But she felt so fragile in this moment. He cupped her cheeks and entered her slowly, so slowly, his eyes tracking her every breath, her every twitch, every flutter of her fingers against his shoulders.

  She tried to look away but he guided her face back to his. She might have wanted to fuck but it wasn’t what she needed.

  In this at least, he would not fail her. And as he sank, inch by inch into the sweetest pussy the gods had ever created, he realized he’d needed it, too. When he heard AJ’s voice coming from her contact number and then heard her screaming—

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her tighter than he’d ever held anything. She squeezed around him like she too was holding on for dear life. Because that’s what she was to him. His whole fucking life.

  How could he have been so fucking stupid? Lying to himself for all those months and trying to pretend that she meant nothing to him? She meant everything. He didn’t deserve her.

  Slowly, tortuously, he slid out and then pushed back in again. A shudder went down his spine as pleasure threatened even though he’d just begun. It was easy to hold back, though. He had only to remember the image of AJ holding the gun to her head and her terrified eyes pleading with him for help. But in the end, he’d done nothing. She’d helped herself.

  No, he didn’t fucking deserve her. He clutched her closer still. But he would.

  He’d devote the rest of his life to earning this woman. To earning her trust and love and devotion. He’d give her a world that was beautiful and safe and perfect. He’d give her everything he’d never had. He swore it, now, in this moment. He’d wipe the sorrow from her eyes. He’d make her happy, no matter what it fucking took.

  He reached down and grasped her ass, angling her just right so that when he pushed in again, he hit that perfect spot inside her and her mouth dropped open in a silent scream of pleasure.

  He pulled out and thrust in again, out and in, grinding against her clit until she was shuddering with her climax and squeezing around him so tight he couldn’t hold back anymore. His spine lit up and then he thrust and spilled into his wife and for a moment, everything was as it was meant to be. Her, sated and limp in his arms and him, her conqueror and protector.

  But then her legs wobbled and he could tell she was so weak, she almost collapsed right there in the shower where she stood.

  Fuck.

  He turned off the shower and helped her out, wrapping a towel around her and urging her to sit down on the closed toilet seat while he toweled her off. Her eyes were closed and her face, unreadable. Marcus frowned. Usually after sex her features were soft and she was more pliable than ever. Right now, though…

  "Let’s get you to bed,” he said gently, helping her up off of the seat and taking her to the bedroom. She stumbled along after him. Gods, when was the last time she’d eaten anything? “I’ll have one of the men bring something up for dinner,” he started but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

  “No,” she said, curling up to the pillow drowsily as he pulled the blankets over her. “Just want to sleep.”

  It must have been true because only moments later, her soft, delicate little snores filled the otherwise silent room. Marcus didn’t move from where he sat on the bed beside her, frowning.

  Time. It would just take time for her to share all she’d been through so they could work through it together.

  And in the meantime… Marcus’s eyes shot to the window. He stood abruptly and then looked back down at Cora.

  She hadn’t moved, not even stirred at his sudden motion. She’d be out for a while. And though he’d managed to block everything out while he was with her, his business couldn’t be ignored for much longer. It was a mess now that they’d lost the shipment.

  He needed to do major damage control, so, reluctantly, after a lingering stare at his wife from the doorway to make sure she didn’t stir, he walked out and closed the door quietly behind himself.

  He took a deep breath and held it, letting the mask of Marcus Ubeli settle over himself like a Greek player of old. The part of himself he shared with Cora was sacred. But the world must never see anything other than strength and a leader who crushed his enemies underneath his heel.

  He strode down the stairs and straight to the kitchen where he knew Sharo would be waiting. Sharo was indeed there and he handed Marcus a cup of coffee as he came in.

  “They have him?” he barked.

  Sharo nodded. “It’s being arranged. They’re estimating three hours, maybe four.”

  Marcus grabbed the cup and drink it all down without a word. The liquid burned his throat but it was a good burn and Marcus needed the caffeine.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Twenty-Seven

  Cora woke and even without looking at the clock knew it was still hours before dawn. The way the light fell over her hands—they were red-stained. She jerked and stared but they were clean. The blood on them had been washed away, but her guilt went more than skin deep. She’d never get clean.

  Marcus’s side of the bed lay empty. He was probably downstairs, cleaning up the mess she’d made of his business. At the thought, she whimpered. Iris dead, a shipment seized, and all the Shades brought under police spotlight.

  When her husband found out—an
d he would find out, of that she had no doubt—what happened then? Would he forgive her? She turned her face into the pillow. Gods, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to forgive herself, so why should he?

  She squeezed her eyes shut and thought of how tenderly he’d held her in the shower. How gentle he’d been with her. How he’d caressed her and washed her hair and…made love to her. She’d asked him to fuck her but he hadn’t. After all this time she’d gotten the only thing she’d wanted but it was too late. It was too late for them. She’d ruined it all.

  She sat up and swiped angrily at the tears falling down her cheeks. Marcus wouldn’t look at her that way ever again, not once he knew. Or… She bit down on her lip. Maybe if she could just explain it… How she’d started with good intentions but it had all gotten out of hand so quickly… And then in the end she’d tried— She’d tried—

  A sob gulped its way out of her and she threw her hand over her mouth. But there was no stopping it once it started.

  And suddenly, she couldn’t be here anymore. She couldn’t face Marcus when he came back from dealing with the disaster that she’d caused. She couldn’t lie to him and she couldn’t tell him the truth.

  A green light blinking on the dresser caught her eye. Her cellphone.

  Marcus or Sharo must have gotten it from one of the Shades, who’d have found it where she dropped it on the warehouse floor. She just needed a little space. She just needed to breathe and figure out her next move. To figure out how to tell Marcus.

  She fired off a quick text, then got dressed. Jeans and a tee, under a sweatshirt. By the time she was done, a message was waiting for her.

  Maeve: Pick you up now?

  She texted back. Yes.

  There wouldn’t be any sneaking out the kitchen exit, not this time. Marcus would have Shades on every door.

  So she used a tree to escape the house—one she had found on her earlier walk. Cora padded through the house until she found the room, unlocked the window and looked out. The tree branch that scraped along the side of the house didn’t look so sturdy, but she tested it and then swung her legs out to balance on it. It held.