Twisted Vow

by Ella Miles

  She steps forward, grabbing my jeans. She undoes the button and zipper and yanks them down.

  My eyes roam her body as she stands in front of me. My cock is hard and straining to be inside her.

  She grins seductively as she straddles me again, taking full control. This must be her sin, fucking me without letting me demand anything from her. She’s going to take what she needs from my body without thinking about me, and I’ve never seen anything sexier.

  When she sinks down on top of my cock, all my feelings come flooding back. Feelings I have no right to. I shouldn’t fall for her in any single way. Not as friends or lovers. This is all a trick, just like before. She wants something from me, and she using my emotions to get it. Not going to happen.

  But my cock gets lost in her pussy, thrusting in and out as our eyes lock wide open, while kissing each other. My heart flutters in my chest feeling her heart so close to mine. My brain may know who Siren is, but right now, it’s having trouble explaining to my cock and heart how to feel.

  Siren moves on top of me in careful, practiced movements. She doesn’t let me do any of the work. She takes it all herself, pumping up and down over me. Her boobs bob up and down in front of my chest. Her hands grip my shoulders, and she moves herself up and down in a beautiful rhythm. The boat rocks as we do, and I get completely lost in her.

  “Jesus, Siren, you’re incredible. And you’re mine.”

  She takes my pleasure for her own. And then we both crash, our bodies explode with each other, and it feels bigger than the explosion that happened moments before.

  Slowly, Siren stops rocking over me. She climbs off, picking up my shirt off the floor. She puts it on, along with her jeans.

  “What am I supposed to wear?” I ask.

  She grins, tossing me my slacks. I guess I’m going shirtless. And it’s worth it to see her wear my shirt.

  I come up behind her and pull her to my chest. “That was one hell of a sin.”

  “That wasn’t my sin.”

  “Oh?”

  She reaches down and grabs the knife I used to untie her ropes with. She hands it to me. I take it looking at it in confusion.

  Then she sits down on the bench and motions for me to sit behind her. I do.

  She lifts her hair up in a ponytail.

  “Carve your initials below Julian’s,” she says.

  “What? Why would I do that?” I ask in disgust.

  “Because I earned a sin.”

  I stare at her in disbelief. “No.”

  “You don’t get to say no. I earned a sin. I get to choose anything. Now, do it.”

  Her voice shakes me. I’ve never seen her so determined. “Why?” And I know as soon as I ask it, it’s the wrong question. And her answer is going to break me.

  She looks me dead in the eyes. “Because I’m tired of men thinking they can own me. Tell me what to do. Or even save me. You think you can own me? Then mark me as yours, just like Julian.”

  I growl. “I’m nothing like Julian.”

  “You’re exactly like him,” she snaps.

  “Not possible! I tried to save you, Julian would never do that! I’ve seen how he treats you. He hurts you over and over again. All I’ve ever done is try to be nice to you!”

  “No! You try to save me, even when I tell you not to. Even when I plead for you not to. You have no idea the damage you’ve done. You have no idea I now belong to you as much as I belong to Julian.”

  I blink rapidly, not understanding. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m telling you to carve your initials below Julian’s. You already think of me as yours. You tell me I’m yours whenever we fuck. I’m telling you that you saved me one too many times. I’m telling you that you ruined my life! That you’ve taken from me too many times. So carve your damn initials into my neck, so I can remember you are not my friend, you’re just trying to control me the same as Julian.”

  “No.”

  I drop the knife.

  She picks it up with tears in her eyes I don’t understand. Tears that say she’s feeling more, but she’s afraid, so damn afraid. “Carve your initials, or we are done. There will be no more truths. No more sins.”

  No more us.

  Whatever that means. I don’t know what us is.

  Reluctantly, I take the knife.

  She turns, holding her hair up for me. I see Julian’s hastily carved initials and a faint outline of a different mark just above his, buried in her hair. I have a feeling carving my initials is more than what she is asking. There is more truth she isn’t speaking—a reason she wants me to do this.

  One reason is she knows hurting her will hurt me.

  A second reason is she’s scared of her own feelings for me. And this is a way she can stay angry instead of letting her feelings for me out.

  And the third reason is yet to be discovered.

  I press the knife carefully to her flesh, and then I carve my initials—ZK.

  I watch myself hurt her. I watch the blood flow. I watch the pain I cause, and tears roll down my cheek.

  When I’ve finished, she releases her hair. “That’s what it feels like every time you try to save me. Every time you claim I’m yours. Every time you don’t trust me. Like you are laying claim to something you have no right to earn.” Her tears spring free until we are both crying in the back of the boat.

  I open my mouth to say I’m sorry, but then I stop. Because I’m not sorry for saving her, or at least trying to. Just like she’s not sorry she saved me. And I’m sure as hell not sorry for saying she’s mine, even when I know she can never be.

  Instead, I grab her and pull her tight to my chest, comforting her.

  I look out at the sea and the wreckage of the boat. She survived. Could Beckett have survived too?

  25

  Siren

  I let Zeke drive me back to the hotel. We don’t speak after the sin I made him carry out, but it was an intense moment. A moment where I felt all my power return. I’m tired of men controlling my life.

  Zeke parks the stolen car a block from the hotel. We step out, and I start walking up to the hotel in his shirt and my damp jeans. Zeke chases after me, still shirtless, only wearing his slacks and carrying his suit jacket.

  He grabs my hand as we walk.

  I try to pull my hand free.

  But he only tightens his grip. “You can fight me all you want. But I’m bigger than you and as you made me carve into your neck, you’re mine.”

  He’s pissed I made him hurt me. But maybe he’ll think twice now before playing that stupid game again or using it to get what he wants from me.

  I’m exhausted, so I stop resisting, and we walk hand in hand through the lobby of the hotel and into the elevator. Once inside, I try to pull my hand away again, but he continues gripping it.

  “You aren’t in control anymore. I committed your sin,” he growls.

  The doors open on my floor, and Zeke drags me down the hallway. For a second I think, he’s bringing me back to my hotel room to fuck me again, and my heart speeds up at the thought. But when he knocks on the door, and Nora opens it with her eyebrows raised, I realize he’s just delivering me to my hotel room to ensure I don’t get into any more trouble.

  Zeke gives Nora a curt nod and pulls me inside.

  “Nora, can you give us a minute?” Zeke mumbles, barely looking at her.

  “Sure,” she grabs her purse and then heads out the door.

  Finally, I yank my hand free. “You can go, too. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  He huffs. “You’ve run off on me enough times; it seems to be exactly what you need.” He heads toward the bathroom. “Sit,” he commands. The look on his face telling me that if I don’t sit on the bed, he’s going to return and spank me so hard I will no longer be able to sit.

  So I sit.

  I hear him rummage through drawers and cabinets in the bathroom, mumbling and cursing. Finally, he returns, carrying a small bandaid and washcloth.

  “T
his is all I could find,” he grumbles, holding the items up.

  I sigh. Zeke can’t stand not to help me.

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “I don’t care what you need. You’re going to take my help so I can sleep tonight.”

  “No, I’m not.” I fold my arms across my chest.

  “Yes, you are.” His voice booms so loud I’m sure everyone in the hotel heard.

  “If I let you, will you leave?”

  “Yes.”

  I lift my hair and turn so he can see my neck. And then I feel him press the cool washcloth to his initials. It feels like heaven against my warm skin.

  I melt just a little, sinking into the bed and into his hand pressing against my neck.

  “You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”

  “And you are the most arrogant man.”

  He moves the washcloth, and I let out a low hiss as the sting jolts me.

  “I’m sorry,” he says softly, meaning every word.

  But I don’t want him to be sorry. For anything.

  “I think the bleeding has stopped,” he says a few minutes later.

  I nod.

  And then I hear him unwrapping the bandaid before he presses it to my skin.

  “It’s not big enough to cover the entire area, but at least your hair won’t rub against it and irritate it.”

  I drop my hair back down.

  “You should get out of those wet clothes,” he commands.

  “Turn around,” I say, even though he just saw my naked body before. Right now, I’m angry at him, and he doesn’t get to see me naked when I’m angry.

  He turns, and I slip out of my wet jeans and heels. But I leave his T-shirt on.

  “Okay,” I say, when I’ve done as he said.

  He turns. I expect him to tell me to give him his shirt back, but he doesn’t. He acts like his shirt belongs on my body.

  “Now get under the covers. You need to rest.”

  I don’t want to be ordered around, but he’s right. I need sleep. So I crawl into bed.

  Zeke sits on the side of the bed, pulling the covers up tightly around me and tucking me in. He hesitates for a second and then asks, “Is Beckett dead?”

  I knew he would ask. If I’m alive, Beckett could have survived the blast too. And I have to be careful with how I answer. Because when we return home, I’ll be the proof Julian needs to know that Zeke did his job. I need to believe that Beckett is dead, whether he is or not.

  And right now, I don’t know.

  “Beckett was on the boat when the bomb went off. What do you think?” I answer.

  Zeke nods, accepting my answer. That answer won’t fly with Julian. Julian knows all my tricks. He knows how I can answer without truly answering the question to avoid lying. He will want a yes or no. I need Zeke to get me to believe that he found evidence of Beckett’s death in order to pass that information along to Julian. Whether Beckett actually died or not.

  Zeke tucks my hair behind my ear. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we will head back to St. Kitts.”

  Zeke stands as Nora opens the door to the hotel room.

  “Take care of her, Nora,” Zeke says as he leaves.

  Nora sets her purse down and then climbs up the bed next to me. “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  She sighs. “So you’re telling me I can’t have Zeke or Beckett?”

  I throw a pillow at her.

  “I was just asking,” she says back. She stands up, pulls her dress off, and climbs under the covers, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m always here if you need a friend to talk to.”

  I nod and kiss her hand because Nora is a good friend. But I need more than someone to talk to if I’m going to fix the predicament I’m in. I need a way to stop letting men into my life.

  26

  Zeke

  I pull on a shirt in my hotel room while thinking about Siren. She better stay in that damn bed tonight. I hope Nora will make sure she does.

  Beckett is dead. I will never know who he worked for. Did he work for Enzo Black? Was he an ally? Or was he an enemy?

  I toss my wallet on the nightstand and start kicking my shoes off.

  Wait…Siren didn’t actually answer my question. She never said if Beckett is alive or dead.

  Beckett could be alive.

  I snatch my wallet back up and race out of the hotel, back to the docks, and into a boat to search the water for him.

  It takes me an hour of searching before I spot a man, gripping onto a piece of the boat floating in the water.

  I kill the engine and pull him onto the boat with one hand. He collapses onto the floor of the boat. He coughs a few times, trying to rid his body of the saltwater. It brings back memories of before, of the last time I was in the water, and Siren saved my life.

  “Who do you work for?” I ask, as I sit on a bench, waiting for him to compose himself. If I were smart or more weary, I would aim a gun at him until I got my answer. But I already suspect the truth. And he’s in no condition to fight anyway.

  He doesn’t answer; he just coughs again. And I’m impatient.

  “Do you work for Enzo Black?” I growl.

  He smirks. “I work for the Black empire, yes. I’m Enzo’s half brother, actually.”

  I exhale a deep breath, realizing that we are on the same side. And he almost killed me. He almost killed Siren, although she got her revenge for that.

  “And who are you?” he asks.

  “I’m Zeke Kane.”

  “Zeke Kane was supposed to be dead.”

  “I survived. I mean, Aria saved me.”

  “Is that why you work for her?”

  “No, I work for her because I have to to protect the Black empire.”

  “Enzo and Kai are going to so happy to know you are alive. And Langston…”

  My eyes water thinking about them. “They can’t know. Not yet.”

  Beckett frowns, sitting up. “They have to know. They’re still devastated by your death. They’ve been living with it for so long.”

  “And someday, I hope to be able to tell them I’m safe. But for now, they need to think I’m dead. It’s the only way to protect them.”

  Beckett runs his hand through his hair.

  “You have to pretend to be dead, too,” I say.

  He sighs. “Enzo’s my half-brother. And I’ve learned to love Kai like a sister. I know they trust you. If you’re telling me I need to pretend to be dead in order to keep them safe, then I will.”

  “Thank you,” I nod, feeling the pain of not knowing what has happened to my friends and of making someone else they love pretend to be dead. To make them mourn another person they love.

  He studies me a moment. “I don’t understand your relationship with Aria. I don’t know what you feel for her or if what I saw was all just an act on your part. But Aria tried to kill me. She knows who I am, that I work for the Black empire. You can’t trust her; she’s not on our side.”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t.” I can never trust Siren, no matter how my heart aches to.

  27

  Siren

  The next morning is exhausting, but not because of a lack of sleep. I slept hard with my best friend holding me, reminding me I have someone on my side.

  The morning is exhausting because Zeke is completely ignoring me, while giving Nora his undivided attention. They both talk to each other like I’m not even here. In the hotel lobby, Zeke even offers to carry her bags.

  I drive us to the airport, and the happy couple decide to sit in the back seat. Nora even rests her head on Zeke’s chest.

  So by the time we get to our plane, I’m exhausted from watching them together. I board the plane immediately, not speaking to either of them and taking a seat in the far back of the plane.

  Nora boards next and looks over at me. “You okay?”

  “Yep, just tired.”

  She nods and then heads to the cockpit.

  Zeke boards last, carrying
two coffees. He heads to the front and hands one to Nora, who takes it happily. And then he takes a seat across the aisle and ahead of me. He sips on his own coffee, continuing to ignore me.

  Finally, we take off, and I try leaning my head back and sleeping. But Nora is back to her antics, and the plane dips side to side. This is her way of keeping us both awake and trying to force us to talk.

  “Here,” Zeke says, holding out the coffee cup to me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Offering you a sip of my coffee. But it’s my coffee, so don’t drink it all. You are going to need to stay alert if we are going to survive this ride back.”

  I take the coffee and drink a couple of sips, accepting his peace offering before I return the cup.

  “I would move back there to talk to you, but I’m afraid of getting tossed out a window with the way Nora is flying,” Zeke says.

  I don’t laugh, but his comment earns him a smile.

  “We need to talk,” I say.

  He frowns.

  “Truth or sins?” I ask, hopeful that he’ll play if he thinks there is a chance he’ll get to fuck me on the plane.

  “Who did you fuck to earn you a mile-high club membership?” he asks.

  I smirk, I wasn’t expecting that question. “Pete Miller.”

  “Pete Miller? That’s such a boring name. And who was this Pete Miller? Someone you needed information from?”

  His comment is like a jab to the heart.

  “No, I fucked him because I wanted to. Because I thought it would be fun to have sex on a plane. And Pete was hot, despite having a boring name.”

  Zeke relaxes his shoulders.

  “Is Beckett dead?” I ask, taking my own turn. I don’t know if Zeke will tell me. He might take the easy way out and say sin; that way, he can pay me back for what I made him do last night and hide the truth about Beckett.

  The sexual tension between us has heightened. All I want to do is to race over to Zeke and make him a member of the mile-high club too. If he chooses sin, then I’ll get to. I need this.

  But I also need his answer.