DECEIT (B723)

by Hazel Grace

  “I want you everywhere.” I grab onto her hips and fuck her like I should every time we do. Hard and rough than soft and sweet, reminding her of how much I adore and cherish her. That I’m a dickhead that only softens to her.

  She’s the words when I have nothing to say in a world that’s been tainted and unpleasant for me. She makes me want to be completely bound to her in every which way that matters and doesn’t.

  To dive headfirst without my hands to save me.

  “Don’t stop,” Emmy begs, piercing into my soul with her brown eyes. She does exactly what I want and keeps that pretty little gaze on me.

  It’s everything.

  I take my girl with every ounce of energy that I have. I circle her sensitive clit and meet her tiny thrusts with one of my own.

  “Oh God,” she breathes, gripping onto one of my biceps. Her fingers dig into my hard flesh, and it does nothing but up the ante.

  She comes down hard and howls out through her orgasm with her eyes still fucking open. I watch her soar, and her face pinkens brighter when it triggers my own release.

  My cock shoots out ropes of come inside her beautiful ass, but I pull out and shove it into her tight pussy. I milk myself as Emmy moans again and I growl out.

  I was screwed from day one with Emmy.

  I’ll continue screwing her until I fucking die.

  The problem with being entitled is that you don’t think of someone else’s feelings or plans. In fact, you plainly ignore them.

  Alexander believes that today he’s going to have a one up on me.

  That he’s going to fucking kill me because I already know too much, and it only takes one visit or report to blow the biography of him being a piece of shit.

  He’s going to have a story, alright. One that ends with his death or missing—I haven’t decided yet.

  This morning, Alexander’s text messages to his squad were that he was going to finish this himself.

  I’m ready.

  I’m waiting.

  And he’s here—a few hours early.

  Dressed casually—well for him—in navy blue slacks and a burnt orange shirt with navy matching triangles on it, Alexander stands at my doorstep and looks at me with zero fucks that he’s not supposed to be here yet. His medium-brown hair is perfectly styled as if he’s about to pick me up for a date or we’re about to have a damn picnic.

  I mean, why look like shit when you’re about to kill someone?

  “Hello, Emmy,” he greets without his usual and charming smile. “I figured we’d get this over with.”

  “No big deal—“ I step aside to let him in. “—make yourself at home.”

  He strides inside, careful not to touch anything because this place probably hasn’t been deep cleaned ever. His silence pricks my skin, and when I pivot around, he’s got a pretty little gun shoved in my face.

  “You ruined everything,” he bites out, his expression pained and conflicted. “Why? Why the fuck did you contact me?”

  I cock my head to the side, kinda confused and kinda like I want to kick him in the balls. “You didn’t want me to tell you that I was alive with our kids?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he snaps, shaking the weapon as he says it. “You’re still fucking around with your ex-husband.”

  The response that is about to leave my lips might get a bullet in my face, and I’m not sure if Lucien can fix that, so I opt out for another answer.

  Because my ex-husband is now stepping out of my bedroom with a Glock in his hand.

  “I’ll admit,” I tell Alexander. “I was having a petty moment and wanted to see the look on your face.”

  “You were never going to forgive me, so why—“

  “Quit fucking whining and drop the gun, dickhead,” Bishop leers, his expression taut but not his body.

  It’s fucking shaking.

  Alexander’s nostrils flare, but he doesn’t drop the weapon—shocker. “You think this is going to end how you wanted it to?”

  “Maybe,” I quip, then shrug. “Maybe not.”

  “So I guess you thought that hacking into my text messages was going to give you a head start?” My blood runs cold at his question because the fucker caught on. As I said, Alexander is no fucking idiot. “What kind of dumbass would I be to talk about killing my ex-girlfriend where it could be traced back?”

  “The same one who put a hit on my husband.” Alexander steps forward, and that’s when the barrel of Bishop’s gun shoves into the back of his head.

  “One more move,” Bishop warns.

  “And risk me shooting her too?” Alexander retorts. “You can’t save her.”

  “Watch me.”

  Alexander meets my stare, and his lips curl into a sardonic grin. “Rhett Mills, right? He’s the one who’s been babysitting our kids?”

  This time, I definitely don’t make a peep. Just the mention of him putting both Alaric and Atlas with Mills speaks volumes that are blaring warnings in my ear.

  He knows where the twins are.

  “And he’s on his way here, right?”

  I erase the limited space between him and I, the silver barrel of Alexander’s gun now pressed into my forehead. “You’re outgunned, Alex.”

  “Don’t underestimate me, sweetheart. You fucked up the last time.”

  “You wanna kill me? You’re gonna raise the twins?”

  “No,” he says slowly. “This isn’t an assassination for you, Emmy. It’s for him.” He jerks his head back and against Bishop’s Glock.

  Alexander’s cool eyes hold mine, and he’s not fucking around.

  He wants to kill Bishop.

  He has some power floating behind his perfect persona too. All rich fucks do. Money talks, people loathe and love it; it’s simple math.

  My cell rings in my back pocket, and Alexander’s gaze falls down my body. “Answer it.”

  Instead of doing it, I look at Bishop, who’s ready to just pull the trigger. His whole body is on another level. This is new for him because his plan would’ve been to make my ex bleed before questioning.

  He nods, and I reach behind me to see Kyson’s name appear on my screen.

  “Hey,” I say cautiously.

  “You okay up there?”

  “Yeah, you?”

  “Not so much. I got a lot of men around your building. I can’t get out of the car yet, and there are four SUVs in front. We can take out the trucks, but the burly dudes are what I’m working on.”

  “No shit,” I say as calmly as I can. So Alexander brought out a fucking hidden posse to get to me?

  “Mills is with me,” Kyson adds in.

  Code: Marty and Blue are still out there.

  “Stand down.” I don’t look at Bishop because that may read too confident. “I don’t want anyone hurt.”

  “How loud?”

  Code: Can he hear me?

  “Not much,” I reply.

  “Kids are safe,” Kyson proceeds to tell me. “I got my gear. Buy me ten minutes, Ems.”

  “Okay.”

  “Get off the phone now, sweetheart,” Alexander commands, holding out his hand to take it. I hesitate because it’s a lifeline, but I hang up and give it over.

  My kids are safe.

  I don’t know where they are, but if Kyson says they are, he won’t bullshit me. And as much as Alexander believes I underestimated him, he again did the same to me.

  Kyson was a sniper in the military.

  His men will be dead in minutes.

  “Now—“ Alexander pockets my phone. “—we were talking about killing the man behind me.

  I don’t get to respond because a shot rings out, and I jolt back against the door. My ears buzz from the close range, but Alexander is still standing in front of me.

  Bishop, however, isn’t.

  I round my ex’s body on instinct, but Alexander grips my bicep and shoves me backward, the cold metal of his weapon pressed underneath my chin. My fingers are already formed together to swing on him, but th
e second shot pierces through my next move, and my heart stops.

  I hear Bishop’s growl.

  I see two other bodies that aren’t mine come in from my bedroom, and Bishop hurled up from the floor.

  From experience, I know not to show any emotion when your teammate is captured or used as leverage. It’s a weakness. However, Bishop may have been shot twice and I don’t know where.

  I’m not sure where the fuck Marty and Blue are, but they need to wrap this shit up and get in here.

  “Now that that’s taken care of.” Alexander's concentration falls to my lips and remains there. “We can talk about visitation with the kids.”

  My eyes form into slits. “No.”

  His body blocks my view of Bishop, and I begin to grow overly anxious, almost about to call his bluff if he’s going to pull the trigger on me.

  I can’t leave the kids behind.

  And as if my luck has changed, Alexander stupidly hands off his gun to one of his men. An older man in his mid-fifties, maybe, but he looks like this isn’t his first go-around. No, unlike the suits I’ve seen following Alexander like at the coffee shop, he’s in black jeans and tee. He appears like someone who was hired for something shady and illegal.

  And without needing any more guidance, he pivots back to the middle of the room.

  “You and I have a lot of shit to talk about.” I steer my focus to my ex when, out of the corner of my eye, the second man in the room throws a fist at Bishop’s face as he tries to stand, but he’s knocked back down.

  That’s when I rush the asshole.

  Shoving Alexander aside, my body slams into Bishops’ attacker seconds later, tipping him off balance for a moment before he pushes me backward.

  He tries to swing on me next, but I duck and return a hit to his ribs. Bishop is almost to his feet when the man behind him grips the collar of Bishop’s shirt; however, my man is already ready.

  His elbow thrusts back, catching his opponent in the face. The younger guy wastes no time and backhands me. I see stars, but I know where he is, giving me an opportunity to kick him in the shin.

  The moment I make contact, I’m hurled back by my hair as the man who just bitched-slapped me goes to help his buddy take on Bishop. But when both can’t get a handle on him, they both whip out their guns and point them.

  “See, Emmy,” Alexander whispers in my ear with a sneer. “You caused a whole lot of trouble.”

  I quickly examine Bishop, who’s heavily panting and boring a heated and dangerous glare at the man behind me. I don’t see any blood, which frightens me.

  The bullets didn’t go through, so they're in his back somewhere.

  “Just let him go,” I quip. “You’ve made yourself clear. I’m the one you want.”

  “And you’ve already made it quite clear that you’re upset with me,” my ex says. “What’s to add one more thing to the list of reasons why you hate me than to take out the guy who seems to have your heart.”

  A mirthless chuckle escapes my lips. “Heart? After what you both did to me? You both can go fuck yourselves.”

  “I don’t buy it.” Alexander’s grip on my hip tightens. “You’re lying.”

  “About what?”

  He whirls me and clamps his palm around my face, squeezing into my cheeks with his fingertips. “He stayed here last night.”

  “Because he wouldn’t leave.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that you’re not fucking him?” He said it so harshly that he rattled my skull with his grip.

  “Ding, ding, ding. You win.” I clutch his hand with mine and squeeze back, digging my nails into his flesh. “Did your so-called therapist say it was okay to stalk your ex who you tried to kill? Oh, shit, wait that’s if you’re seeing one.”

  “I am.”

  I snort. “And here we are. Must not be working.”

  “Don’t act so moral, Emmy Lou. It doesn’t fit you. You worked for the President of the United States. I’m sure you’ve dealt in your own shade of shady.”

  “And I’m sure you have as well. I mean…did you call someone to come dig a hole for me after you left me to bleed to death?”

  Alexander frowns at me as if I just told him something that wasn’t true. That I have the absolute audacity to talk about it. “Are you ever gonna try to get past this, or am I beating a dead bush at this point?”

  “Depends.”

  “On?”

  “What you’re doing here tonight.”

  “You want me to spare this asshole?” I keep my lips closed. “No?”

  “I want a man that knows right from wrong,” I leer. “Why would I need to answer something like that? I require a father to my kids, not a killer.”

  His expression tightens. “I told you that I’d never hurt you again. I meant that.”

  “And here I am.”

  “I love you, Emmy. Our relationship wasn’t bullshit. You just have a knack for running your mouth, and…you questioning me made me feel cornered. I snapped.” I try to pry my face from his grasps, but he holds on even tighter.

  “Let me go.”

  He shakes his head hopelessly. “I can’t. I want to, but…you’re it for me. As pissed as I am, you’re it.”

  “I don’t—“ His lips slam into me, hard. His tongue demands entrance, but I deny him. And when I do, he works at the waistband of my leggings. “Stop.”

  “Get your fucking hands off her,” Bishop roars, and a gunshot rings out again, scaring the absolute shit out of me, but Alexander’s hold still braces me to him as he continues to kiss me.

  Buy me ten minutes.

  We don’t have that luxury, not now. It takes another split second for a trigger to be pulled, and I can’t and won’t be able to live without Bishop. I’ve already made so many mistakes.

  I’m the reason why he’s here.

  With all my might, I slam a fist into Alexander’s gut, getting him to immediately release me. With two steps, I allow enough space between us and still have eyes on the other three men in the room.

  And Bishop on his knees, blood seeping through his dark jeans.

  “Emmy,” Alexander growls with disappointment, forcing my attention back to him. “The sooner you forgive me, the better it’s going to be for everyone.”

  I have two options; both I despise.

  One, I can attempt to fight off the dudes in the room who easily have five-plus inches on me and definitely more muscle mass.

  Or, two, I can make a run for the front door of my apartment and pray to God I can get Kyson and Mills in here.

  One isn’t looking too hot.

  And two means I’m leaving Bishop behind for God knows what to happen.

  However, I have a blunt idea that Alexander wants to use him as an example, and he’ll kill Bishop in front of me to make sure his lesson burns in my brain.

  So, I pivot on plan three that just barrelled into my head.

  Make it look like you don't give a shit and get Alexander far enough away to take him down without help.

  I sprint towards the door and twist the knob, yanking it back so fiercely that it bangs into my TV and knocks it over.

  But I didn’t expect the two dudes standing outside my place, boring daggers into my face at my hopeless attempt.

  “Maybe you don’t love him,” Alexander hedges behind me. “Interesting.”

  The moment his words leave his mouth, cold metal wraps around my wrist when one of the men captures my other.

  “Secure him,” Alexander orders before spinning me and guides me back to where we were standing before.

  In perfect view of Bishop and the middle of the room.

  I glance over my shoulder, but Alexander palms my jaw, keeping the pressure off but my eyes on him.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

  “Yes, you are,” I reply, not bothering to hide the shake in my voice. He’s going to kill Bishop no matter what I do just to make sure he’s not an option for me.

  “I promise,” Alexander says ove
r my lips. “You’re my queen. I want to treat you like it.”

  Just him thinking that I’m dumb enough to believe him is insulting.

  “How?” His other hand breaks into the waistband of my leggings again, and I think I’m going to puke all over him from how tight my stomach is knotting.

  One of his fingers finds my clit, and he slowly begins to stroke it in a circle. “I want to worship you. We’ll draw lines and rules. We have to communicate better.”

  Fuck this asshole.

  But I bob my head slowly like I’m listening and what I hear is Bishop not saying a fucking word.

  My heart beats triple-time, thrashing in my chest at the unknown to my left.

  “You’ll see a change in me.” His breath hits my lips, and my body seizes uncomfortably. His intimacy sends goosebumps everywhere as it revokes how a touch is supposed to feel.

  Safe.

  Warm.

  Welcomed.

  Everything about Alexander is revolting. I crave to kick him so hard, to release me from his disgusting grip, but it’ll piss him off.

  It may get another bullet in Bishop’s body.

  “Emmy,” Bishop warns, and my eyes search out of the corner of my vision to see if I can locate him.

  He’s about to throw every single fuck away and charge the man in front of me.

  Without Alexander’s strained hold on my face, I look over at him. He has the worse view of what my ex is doing to me, but I’m buying us time.

  “What?” I seize out as if he’s annoying me at this moment. “Shut up.” Bishop’s blue eyes cast the heaviest glare I’ve ever fucking experienced since knowing him. I can feel it pierce my frame as if it’s electrocuting me to not allow this to happen. That for my mouth, I’m going to pay.

  As long as he’s alive after this, I’m fine with it.

  “You don’t like me touching her?” Alexander taunts like an idiot. “You didn’t love her. You wanted to divorce her.”

  “Shut him the fuck up,” Bishop sneers, then something flashes over his features, and it scares the shit out of me.

  I hit him with a stop it stare, but he ignores it. Instead, my ex-husband goes off on his own suicide mission.

  He begins to haunch down lower from his knees before propelling a fist in the older man’s gut before rounding and uppercutting the other.