Twisted Vow

by Ella Miles

“Drop the gun,” Beckett says, as he steps out of the shadows.

  I reluctantly do as he says again. He’s several feet away from me. Too far for me to disarm him. And he’d shoot me dead before I was able to aim my gun in his direction. I could try to jump over the side into the water, but my chances of him not hitting me are slim. My only shot is talking him down.

  “We should talk,” I say.

  Beckett laughs. “You want to talk, huh? Right, now that you are the one about to be shot, you want to talk. But when your girlfriend drugged me and tied me up, you didn’t seem to be in much of a talking mood.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to figure out how to get out of here alive. At least if Beckett kills me, Julian will never get any information about Enzo Black. He will never learn how to take him down. He will remain safe.

  “Where is your girlfriend?” Beckett asks.

  “She’s not my girlfriend. And she’s not involved in this life at all.”

  “Maybe not, but she’s clearly a pro.”

  I shrug. “Who cares if she is? She’s working for me. I’m the one who wants you dead, not her.”

  “Who do you work for?” Beckett asks.

  “Myself.”

  Beckett frowns. “And who are you? You say you work for yourself, then who are you?”

  “I’m Zeke Kane.”

  He blinks rapidly. “Zeke Kane is dead. You’re an imposter. Trying to use his connections and likeness. Tell me who you really are, or I’ll kill you.”

  I narrow my eyes, my hands still in the air, and his gun still aimed at my head. This man knows who I am. He knows my name. He knows I’m supposed to be dead. But I have no clue who he is. I don’t remember him from my life before.

  “Three…” Beckett starts.

  “Really? Going to countdown like I’m a child? You think that’s going to work?” I joke, hoping it will get him to stop long enough so I can think about what to do next. How do I find out who he is? How do I keep him from shooting me first?

  “Two.”

  Fuck.

  “One.”

  I close my eyes, readying myself for death. I’ve already escaped death so many times before. Fate is finally going to win.

  “Wait!” I hear a desperate voice scream from the darkness—Siren’s wail.

  I open my eyes and find her standing next to me, completely out of breath, her body trembling, and her eyes wild with pain.

  She doesn’t care about me. She’s just acting.

  “Don’t kill him. I’ll tell you everything you need to know,” Siren says.

  Beckett’s eyes go between Siren and me, but he keeps the gun pointed at me. Good.

  “And why should I listen to you?” Beckett asks.

  “Because I’m Aria Torres.” Wait…she told me before her last name was Martinez? Did she lie to me then? Or is she lying now?

  Beckett immediately aims his gun at Aria instead of me.

  She smirks with her hands on her hips, and I see the relief on her face now that the gun is no longer pointed at me.

  “Zeke works for me. Take me, not him,” she says.

  “Done,” Beckett says.

  Siren starts walking forward, but I grab her arm. “No,” I say.

  She rips her wrist from my grasp. “Save yourself, don’t come after me. Swear it?”

  I don’t swear. And then she walks over to Beckett while he continues to aim the gun at her.

  “Follow me, and I’ll kill her,” Beckett says.

  She saved me when I didn’t deserve saving.

  But if she thinks I can just let Beckett take her without fighting back, then she doesn’t know me at all. I will never make that vow.

  23

  Siren

  Beckett keeps the gun aimed at me as I step onto a small dingy boat, and we speed off. And I resist the urge to look back to the pier to see if Zeke heeded my warning and left, or if he’s still standing there, trying to figure out how to save me.

  I don’t want to know which he chose. Either option would gut me.

  “Put your hands up,” Beckett says.

  I do.

  He stops the boat after we’ve traveled at least a mile away from shore. He pats me down, finding my gun and knife, before tying my arms behind my back with rope. He does quite a good job for a man with only one arm.

  With us a mile from shore, I finally glance back at the pier. I can no longer make out people. I can barely make out the pier jutting out into the water. So I have no idea what Zeke decided to do.

  But at least in this moment, he’s safe. Watching him stand on the pier, defending those he loved, was astonishing. It was an incredible sight of courageousness. And it fucking terrified me.

  Once Zeke started down the pier, I tried to stay back and do what he asked. But I couldn’t stand by and watch him die. I just couldn’t. Even if we are enemies. Even if he’s destined to kill me one day.

  I’ve never felt so terrified. My body shook with fear, thinking I might not run down the pier fast enough in my heels to stop Beckett from shooting him dead.

  And when I saved him, it was like the sun came out again for the first time. I wasn’t going to have to live a life cast in darkness, a life without Zeke.

  Once Beckett has my arms tied and my weapons taken, he sits back, staring at me. “So you’re the famous Aria Torres, man-eater.”

  I nod. “I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out when I told you my first name.”

  He rests his gun in his lap as he studies me. “I fell for your charm, same as every other man you’ve encountered. But you’re getting soft. You should have shot and killed me in that hotel room, not tied me up and fucked another man. That was careless of you.”

  “It was.”

  “So why didn’t you kill me then?”

  “Because I wanted to question you first, with Zeke’s help.”

  “What questions could you possibly have?”

  I smile. “None anymore. You already answered my question.”

  “And what question was that?”

  “Who are you?”

  He stills.

  “You’re Eli Beckett. You work for the Black empire.”

  His jaw tenses, and his shoulders flex, ready to fight. I thought my comment might get me shot on the spot, but Beckett knows he needs to find out who I work for, or who I’ve passed that information along to first.

  Beckett made it very hard for me to find out who his boss is, which means Mr. Black uses Beckett for secret operations. So knowing his identity would put his job at risk.

  “How do you know that?” Beckett finally asks. He doesn’t raise his gun. He knows I’ll answer without threatening him. Because only one of us is going to survive this boat ride. So there is no danger in us both spilling our secrets.

  “Because you know Zeke Kane.”

  “I don’t actually.”

  Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. “You sure seemed like it back there.”

  “I know the name. I know Zeke Kane used to work for my boss. I also know that he died. But I never met the man. Just heard great things about him.”

  Ah, there it is. “So you have no idea if the man you almost killed was the actual Zeke Kane or an imposter?”

  He nods slowly.

  I laugh and lean forward. “Well, let me let you in on a secret. That man back there, is the real Zeke Kane. He survived. I was the one who saved him. I pulled him from the water. You almost shot the wrong guy.”

  “Fuck,” Beckett says, leaning back in his chair in complete shock.

  He rubs his temple. “But if that is really Zeke, the infamous man who laid down his life to save people time and time again, then why is he working for you?”

  Because I have the ability to control his heart. “Why do you think?”

  “Because he’s trying to protect the Black family. Same as always.”

  Bingo.

  “Jesus, I guess I should thank you,” he says.

  “For what?”

  “
For keeping me from making the biggest mistake of my life. If I killed Zeke, no one would ever forgive me.”

  Least of all me.

  “So are the rumors true? Can you really kill a man with just one look?” he asks.

  “You tell me.” I swing my still damp hair over my shoulder and push out my breasts as I carefully move my fingers down, where I dropped a weapon into the darkness of the boat before Beckett searched me.

  He frowns. “I don’t know what to make of you, Aria. But I think you are worthy of every rumor that has ever been told about you.”

  I smile. “Thanks for the compliment.”

  “Do you work alone or for someone?” he asks.

  “I work for myself.” And that statement has never been more true. I work for myself. Everything I do is selfish. Even if Julian Reed likes to claim the title of boss. There is so much more to the truth than that.

  “What’s your plan now? What do you want with me?” I ask, licking my lip, teasing him with my tongue, and reminding him of our kiss, even though I know that moment has passed. Sex won’t save me this time.

  “You already know what I have to do. I have to kill you. You’re a threat to me, my boss, and even Zeke. I have to kill you and go rescue Zeke.”

  I take a deep breath. “That’s my move.”

  My words are a warning. My eyes flick wide with urgency. And then I jump at the same time Beckett does. We both dive in opposite directions, moments before the bomb goes off. Water sprays my face as I dive under the water. I kick hard to get as far away from the explosion.

  And when the explosion hits, I’m deep below the water. But I still feel the explosion vibrate through me. I don’t look for Beckett under the water, but I have no doubt he survived.

  I warned him; I shouldn’t have. I should have killed him. It’s what Julian wanted. But then again, I don’t always do what Julian wants. I just pay when I refuse to follow his commands.

  24

  Zeke

  I watched Siren get on a boat with Beckett pointing a gun at her head, and I did nothing. I didn’t have a choice; he would have shot her if I made a move. But it was still almost impossible to stand there, instead of sprint after her.

  As soon as the boat got far enough away, I jumped into the nearest speed boat and hot-wired it. Then I took off.

  Siren told me to save myself. I should. I should turn around and drive this boat as far away from here as possible.

  Beckett told me if I followed him, he’d kill Siren. But his words don’t stop me either.

  I’m tired of not knowing the truth. I’m tired of Siren confusing the heck out of me. She shouldn’t have saved me. She should have let Beckett kill me. Then she could have killed Beckett and gone back to Julian as a hero. And she would no longer have to deal with me.

  But she didn’t let me die. She saved me.

  And as I speed out into the ocean, I guess that’s what I’m doing—saving her.

  I lose sight of them as they round the corner of a small island.

  But a few minutes later, I hear a loud boom before they come into view. There is no way to miss them. The small boat is on fire, smoke billowing out of it. Neither of them is still on the boat, if they survived. They would have burned to ash in the explosion.

  I turn off the engine as I watch the flames slowly burn out. My heart stops, my breath extinguishes. And my eyes water at the sight.

  Siren’s dead.

  She died instead of me.

  It should have been me!

  I wipe the tears on the back of my hand as I start the engine again. No, she can’t be dead. I start the engine up and am about to speed off again when I hear the most incredible voice.

  “You trying to save me again? I told you I don’t need saving,” Siren says.

  I let out a stifled laugh that’s half cry and half pure joy, as tears fall down my face. I wipe them quickly before I turn, hoping she won’t see how much emotion she pulled out of me.

  I clear my throat to prevent some high pitched squeak before I speak. “I wasn’t coming to save you. I came to finish the job.” I nod in the direction of the fire. “But it seems like you took care of Beckett yourself.”

  Her eyes glisten, and I wonder if she’s teared up as well. But it’s impossible to tell in the night.

  “Zeke, I—”

  But I stop her from speaking when I yank her out of the water and pull her into the deepest hug. She’s soaking wet, and I swear I hear sobs into my shoulder as I hold her.

  I may have questions I need answered, and she may have truths she needs to tell. But right now, I need a moment just to celebrate the fact that she’s not dead.

  Holding her in my arms isn’t enough, though. And apparently, it isn’t enough for her either.

  “Zeke, I need—” she lets out a deep breath instead of finishing that sentence.

  And man, do I want her to finish that sentence. But I want to feel connected to her even more. And if physically is the only way she will let me connect with her, then so be it.

  “Kiss me,” I demand.

  And she does. She tilts her head up, stands on her tiptoes, and kisses me with everything she has. Her tongue pushes into my mouth with great efficiency. She knows exactly what she wants from me. And she’s not afraid to take it. I guess almost dying makes things clearer in one’s head. At least, it does me.

  I run my hands down her arms, realizing that the reason her hands aren’t all over my body is because they are tied behind her back. My hands fist in anger at the thought of another man tying her up. Trying to control her. She’s mine.

  But my conscience is laughing at me for thinking a woman like Siren could ever be claimed, or could ever belong to a man. She’s the kind of woman who will only ever belong to herself.

  I slowly spin Siren around, who whimpers when I force her to break the kiss. I have fantasies of tying Siren up every which way in my bed. But I’m not going to fulfill any of them with her arms tied by another man.

  I pull a knife from my pocket and slice through the ropes, freeing her hands.

  “I’m the only one allowed to tie you up,” I whisper into her ear. “You’re mine.”

  And the beautiful exhale that escapes her lips tells me she agrees.

  She shivers, cold, and soaked in her clothes.

  I wrap my arms around her, needing her warm.

  “There are better ways to keep me warm,” she pants.

  I nuzzle her neck and then press a sweet kiss to her neck. “Yea? What are you thinking?”

  She turns her head and kisses me, hard like she needs the kiss in order to stay alive. “Fuck me, Zeke.”

  God, how I’ll never tire of hearing her say that. But I want answers.

  “Truth or sin?” I ask.

  She nods.

  But then she kisses me again, and I forget about our game. It’s not a game either of us need in order to fuck anymore. We are going to need to change the rules to get each other to spill truths, since we’d both rather commit a sin together.

  She shoves me back onto the bench in the middle of the boat, and I sit as she straddles me.

  I grab the hem of her shirt and peel it off, watching as the goosebumps spring up all over her delicate skin. She wastes no time unhooking her bra. I’m sure it’s uncomfortable being soaking wet, but it’s not the only reason she’s removing it. She wants assurance that I fuck her no matter what questions I ask or truths she answers. And sitting naked on my lap is definitely a guarantee.

  “You’re incredible. You saved yourself from an explosion. You swam with your arms tied up. I’ve never met a woman quite like you.”

  She leans down, grabbing my head as she kisses me. “I caused the explosion. That’s how I saved myself.”

  And then she kisses me, and I feel every bit of that explosion in my mouth, against my tongue. Her hands dip beneath my shirt, shoving it open, ripping the remaining buttons from our last romp off my shirt. Her hands feel amazing, but I’m not going to let her avoid answeri
ng my questions.

  “Why can’t you lie?” I ask, holding her back, refusing to let her kiss me without answering.

  She opens her mouth, probably to say sin. “If you choose sin, trust me—you won’t like it.”

  The only way she is going to get me to fuck her is by answering my question. When it’s her turn to ask a question, I will answer it truthfully no matter what she asks, refusing her a sin.

  She realizes it in my eyes. But does she want to fuck me badly enough to tell me a truth?

  “It started when I was a girl.”

  I feel the pain in her voice when she speaks.

  “My parents hated it when I lied. So they made sure I was appropriately punished every time they caught me in a lie.”

  “Your scars?”

  “Some of them were caused by my parents.”

  “And the others?”

  “That’s not part of your question.”

  I sigh.

  “What keeps you from lying now?”

  She runs her nail over my chest. “Most of the reason is I can’t. Part of the emotional trauma from my childhood of literally getting beaten every time I lied.”

  “And the other part?”

  “A vow I made to a man never to lie.”

  “To who?”

  “You already know the answer.”

  Julian Reed.

  I want to ask more, but I’ve pushed enough. She answered my question, and I got another piece of her puzzle. I know what my next question will be, and I just hope that I can get her to answer and not choose sin.

  She exhales a breath when she realizes I’m done asking my question. Your turn, Siren.

  “Where is Enzo Black?”

  Her question isn’t a fair one. It makes me hate her. It makes me distrust her. And it makes me think the only way to save Enzo and my friends is to eventually kill her.

  But she’s also asking because she wants a sin. She doesn’t realize that after her spilling her truth, I’ll fuck her without needing her to earn a sin.

  “Sin,” I answer.

  And with that, she steps back. She removes her pants, now naked in front of me. Her skin shimmers in the moonlight, still damp from the ocean water.