Rise (Dark and Dangerous Book 2)

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Rise (Dark and Dangerous Book 2) Page 1

by Kaye Blue




  Rise

  A Dark and Dangerous Novel

  Kaye Blue

  Rise

  Copyright © 2019 Kaye Blue

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are invented by the author or used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, businesses and business establishments, places, or events are entirely coincidental. This book is intended for mature audiences only. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Kaye’s Newsletter

  She’s the one person who could ruin my revenge

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  The Irish Mob Chronicles

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  She’s the one person who could ruin my revenge

  I don’t feel. Emotions are for the weak.

  I left them behind the day cruelty shattered my childhood.

  Now I live for vengeance.

  And she’s the perfect instrument to make my enemy suffer…but all I want to do is keep her for myself.

  I should use her.

  Destroy her.

  Before she leaves me vulnerable. Before she makes me feel too much.

  I know what I need to do.

  But I can’t let her go.

  One

  Aras

  Pop. Pop pop pop!

  Another round of automatic gunfire confirmed that I had done the right thing in leaving Lake behind.

  I was already distracted, but there was no way I would be able to focus if she was with me.

  As I ran, I reminded myself that the house was practically impenetrable, that she would be safer there.

  Then, I focused on the hunt.

  It was bright out, the early morning sun burning away the mist and lighting my path.

  I exited the front door and immediately veered right, heading away from the gunfire and toward the side of the house.

  It would provide me at least some measure of cover until I could connect with the others.

  The gunfire continued, frantic now, and I moved as quickly but stealthily as I could.

  I rounded one corner of the house, another, the gunfire growing louder.

  There was a guard station just pass the tree line, but I wouldn’t risk going to it. The run from here to there would leave me to exposed.

  Going directly toward the gunmen wasn’t the best option either. Still, I could hope that the element of surprise and a little bit of luck, something I hated to bank on, would be in my favor.

  The shots were getting louder, almost deafening, and as I got closer, my own lack of a firearm became even more apparent.

  But there was nothing to do about it now, so I gripped my knife tight and kept going.

  I spotted three black-clothed figures, all with automatic weapons.

  If my quick glance had been right, there were two others on the lawn, taken out by the guards in the tower.

  It was those same guards the intruders were exchanging fire with now.

  The exterior of the house had been reinforced with concrete, and with each bullet that struck it, chips of concrete broke off and creating a dense white cloud.

  That made it hard for me to see, but made it hard for them to see, too.

  The gunfire went quiet for a moment, and I tightened my grip on the knife, ready to strike.

  At the next round of shots, I did.

  I lunged toward the one closest to me, burying my knife into his kidney.

  He screamed, then started loosening his grip on his weapon.

  I didn’t wait to react.

  I left the knife buried in the man’s lower back and reached for the gun.

  It was hot from use, but I ignored the pain of the burn and yanked on the muzzle.

  That was the kind of stupid shit people did in the movies. In real life, it usually meant getting your face shot off, but I didn’t have any other alternative, and I wasn’t going to die today.

  Or worse, let Lake die.

  I wrestled the gun from the man and aimed at the two others.

  A quick blast of fire and both fell.

  I waved toward the tower and the shots stopped.

  Ezekiel and Roman ran across the lawn while the two other guards stayed in the tower.

  Both were breathing heavily but seemed otherwise unbothered.

  “I left this one alive,” I said.

  I stared down at the whimpering man and then pulled off his ski mask. I didn’t recognize the face.

  “Who do you work for?” I asked.

  “Fuck you,” came his response.

  Greek, from the sound of his accent and the gold cross of the Orthodox Church around his neck.

  “Are you going to talk?” I said.

  “Fuck you,” he repeated.

  “That sounds like a no.”

  I pulled the trigger on the machine gun again. The man let out a sharp scream but then went silent.

  I dropped the gun and wiped my palms against my pants, my hand slick from his blood and the oil on the barrel of the gun.

  “Greek?” Ezekiel said.

  “Yes, I think so. Roman, go check the tower. Make sure we don’t have any more visitors,” I said.

  Roman nodded and then set off in a jog toward the tower.

  When he was gone, I leveled a stare at Ezekiel.

  “You know what this is about?” I asked.

  Ezekiel shrugged.

  “Other than that shipment of guns, which they didn’t even know came from us, I have nothing to do with them. You think this is about your shit?”

  “I can’t rule it out,” I said, my mind spinning.

  It could be.

  Maybe Warren had convinced Vlad of his innocence, or maybe he’d become suspicious, decided to strike.

  It seemed possible, but the more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed.

  This kind of attack didn’t feel like Vlad.

  He would have come with overwhelming force and definitely wouldn’t have sent in amateurs who were so easily overpowered.

  “No,” I said after a moment. “I don’t think this has anything to do with Vlad.”

  “What then?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”

  Ezekiel stared at me for a moment and then shook his head.

  “What?” I said, annoyed because I already knew what he was going to say.

  “You’re unfuckingbelievable.”

  “Spit it the fuck out, Ezekiel.”

  “Your fucking well-fortified, presumably secret compound just got attacked, and you’re worried about her.”

  He spat the last word like it was the most vile curse, and I didn’t even bother to pretend I didn’t know who “her” was.

  Just as I didn’t pretend he wasn’t right.

  Because he was.

  I’d gone through the motions, taken care of this attack, but where before my mind would have been fu
lly consumed with figuring out who was behind it and why, right now, it wasn’t.

  All I could think about was Lake.

  She wasn’t injured. I knew that, but I still wanted to see her, hold her, reassure her that everything was fine.

  Reassure myself that she was fine.

  The need to do just that was almost irresistible, something I was quickly losing my power to deny. And Ezekiel’s words didn’t change that.

  I knew he was right, knew I was playing a very dangerous game, but that didn’t change anything either.

  “You’re not even going to deny it?” he asked, looking as disgusted as I could ever recall seeing him.

  “I don’t make it a habit to lie to you.”

  Ezekiel scowled and then waved toward the house. “Go on then. I guess I’ll clean this up. When you’re done checking her for boo-boos, let me know so we can figure out what the fuck is going on,” he said, looking both petulant and indulgent.

  The look on his face made me want to smile, but I didn’t dare do that. Instead, I turned toward the front door.

  I didn’t even bother to remind Ezekiel that I didn’t need his permission, because I didn’t want to be away from Lake for a second longer than necessary.

  I ran toward the house with more urgency than I’d had when I left it.

  If that wasn’t proof that I had completely lost all perspective, I didn’t know what was.

  I also didn’t care.

  About Ezekiel’s feelings, the danger that was now on my doorstep.

  Didn’t care about anything but Lake.

  I bounded up the four wide stairs that led to the front door and quickly punched in the code.

  The door clicked, flashed green, and I had it open in less than a second.

  “Aras…”

  I had never been more relieved to see someone in my entire life, and before I could even stop myself, I gave in to the overwhelming need to touch her.

  I pulled her into my arms and slammed her against my body so hard that her breath came out in a huff.

  “Sorry,” I murmured against her neck, though I didn’t let her go.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered.

  I could feel the smile on her face, felt even deeper relief when she slowly looped her arms around me.

  I held her tight, not moving, not talking, just reveling in the feel of her body in my arms, her warmth, her breath, the knowledge that she was okay.

  Knew the relief I felt, the anvil that had been lifted off my chest now that I was touching her, spelled trouble.

  I also knew there was something else.

  I had seen the look on her face when I’d stepped through the door.

  Relief, yes.

  That had been there, clear for me to see.

  There been something else too.

  I recognized it, had seen it on countless faces.

  Guilt.

  I held her a moment longer and then finally broke away.

  Stared down at her, proud that she met my eyes.

  Saddened by the fear I saw in hers.

  “You tried to leave,” I whispered.

  Two

  Lake

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  I should have lied.

  I wanted to lie.

  But at the last second, the truth came out.

  The decision had been split second, but it had felt like hours, my hand reaching for the knob, my mind, my heart, not sure what I wanted.

  I had turned it, but my stomach dropped when I found it locked.

  Then, not a second later, came relief so intense I could scarcely bear it.

  What did it mean that I was relieved to be locked in while only God knew what was going on outside?

  A lot of things, things I didn’t want to contemplate, but most of all, it meant I would see Aras again.

  And now that I had, a sense of calm, a sense of rightness washed over me.

  Or at least it did until I glimpsed the fleeting hurt in his eyes.

  It was so quick that I might have imagined it, but somehow, I knew I hadn’t.

  He didn’t even break my gaze, but something had changed.

  Before he had been open, but he was closed off now.

  “But you couldn’t go anywhere because the door was locked,” he said, stating the obvious fact.

  “It was. For my benefit?” I asked.

  “I didn’t know what was on the other side of it. Didn’t want whatever that was getting in here.”

  He spoke nonchalantly, like the words didn’t mean anything, but I didn’t believe it, not for a second.

  He’d been trying to protect me.

  Intellectually, I knew how screwed up that was. He was protecting me from unknown assailants with machine guns because he had kidnapped me from my first kidnapper.

  Just thinking it was enough to make my head spin, but it didn’t change the truth of it or how it made me feel.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “No need to thank me. You’re of no use to me dead.”

  His voice was cold, the closed-off look that had been in his eyes now all over his body.

  On instinct, I recoiled, sensing his anger, not sure how else it would manifest.

  In truth, a punch or a slap wouldn’t have hurt nearly as much as what he had just said.

  Which made absolutely no sense.

  But whether it made sense or not, that didn’t change the reality of it, nor how sorry I was that I had hurt him.

  I hadn’t done anything wrong.

  I told myself that, knew that, but I couldn’t shake the guilt, nor the need to explain myself.

  Aras didn’t give me a chance.

  “You can hang out here. You’ll be safe. I’ll be back.”

  He was gone in the next breath, leaving me in the same place I had been before, staring at that stupid fucking door.

  I didn’t even check to see if it was locked, not wanting to think about what it would mean if it wasn’t.

  Aras

  I was so fucking disgusted with myself I could barely stand it.

  Like she had since the very first day I saw her, Lake was testing my self-control.

  And now I was lashing out, acting the petulant child that I had just accused Ezekiel of being.

  And yet, I couldn’t deny the hurt.

  It was a feeling so unfamiliar I almost didn’t recognize it, but at her confession that she had tried the door, my reaction had been immediate, intense.

  Which wasn’t fair, but fuck fairness.

  Circumstances were what they were, but I had thought there was something between us.

  Something real.

  No, it was real.

  I knew that, but I also knew that didn’t matter, not in the grand scheme of things.

  I knew Lake would eventually be gone one way or another, so until then, my best bet—my only bet—was to enjoy myself and keep my fucking feelings under wraps.

  “Back so soon?” Ezekiel said as I walked up to him.

  “Save it. What do we have?”

  I’d gone to the back of the house where Ezekiel and the guards had lined up the five bodies and were preparing them for disposal.

  “Did you find a vehicle?” I asked.

  “SUV, about a mile out. Roman’s going to check it.”

  “I want to take a look, then we torch it.”

  “The house too?” Ezekiel said.

  “Yeah. We’ll take everything that’s of any value, then it’s gone.”

  “Faulty gas line a good enough cover story?” he asked.

  “It works.”

  He nodded and continued, and I made my way toward Roman, consciously pushing thoughts of Lake aside.

  It took about twelve hours to complete everything.

  By the time I went back into the house, it was evening again.

  “Something smells good,” Ezekiel said.

  Not for the first time, I marveled at him.

  It had been a grueling and gruesome day, but he was
still as exuberant as ever, making his way toward the kitchen with the bounce that was almost always in his step.

  I followed, hanging back a little, not wanting to see who was inside, but at the same time wanting to see her more than I could begin to say.

  “Lake! Good to meet you in person,” Ezekiel said.

  I walked into the kitchen a second after he spoke and immediately looked at Lake, who looked back at me quizzically.

  I nodded quickly and she gave him a smile. “Hi,” she said.

  “What’s for dinner?” Ezekiel asked.

  “After you wash your hands, we have chicken, rice, and broccoli,” Lake said, wrinkling her nose.

  Ezekiel, who had sat at the table, leaving a little pile of dirt on the tile floor, looked at her incredulously.

  She stared back at him, nervous, clearly not sure of his response.

  But when he smiled, she did too.

  “Ballsy. I can see some of what he sees in you,” Ezekiel said.

  Lake’s smile faltered ever so slightly, but she recovered quickly and then gestured toward the table.

  “There’s plenty,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I responded.

  This could be her way of apologizing, a peace offering, but I refused to read too much into it.

  I washed my hands then sat and ate the meal in silence.

  “We’ll be leaving soon,” I said once we were done.

  “Okay,” she responded.

  No questions, no reaction, just acceptance.

  I decided I didn’t like that either.

  The idea of Lake wanting to leave hurt, but was understandable.

  But what I couldn’t understand, wouldn’t accept, was her placating me, her retreating back into the shell that I thought she had broken out of.

  “That’s all?” I said.

 

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