Breathe
N.M. CATALANO
BREATHE
Copyright © 2017 N.M. Catalano
Published by N.M. Catalano
All rights reserved.
No portion of this work may be copied or reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without the express consent of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental, except in actual circumstances.
Purely for entertainment purposes for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
DEDICATION
We all have that special someone in our lives that comes out of nowhere and blows us away. They touch us in the most phenomenal way and we never saw it coming.
I’ve been blessed to have the good fortune of having had many amazing people come into my life. These beautiful women are just a few I want to send a special thank you to.
Siobhan, my wonderful PA, you grabbed the bull by the damn horns and ran with it. I can’t begin to tell you how much I sincerely appreciate all that you do. YOU are a rock star, I can’t tell you enough. Know that I am extremely grateful. Diane, just how in the hell did I get so lucky? You’re a great friend, and you never hesitate to offer your help, even with your life as busy as it is. You’ve introduced me to so many great people, and I am truly lucky to not only have you as a friend, but as a beta reader, (thank GOD), and an admin. Thank you. Fran, you wonderfully crazy woman, you. Thank you for being there when I needed you. You jumped right on board as an admin and brought your circle of people right in with you. You never hesitate when I, or the group, ask for your help, even with your dipshit boss, lol. Your expertise is amazing and I am extremely grateful for everything.
You ladies are truly the fuel that keeps our group going, Bad Boy Book Babes. This book is for you.
But this book is also for you, the readers, the characters come to life because of you.
All my love,
~ N.M./Nadine
Other Works
The Stranger Series
STRANGER, Book 1
SWITCH, Book 2
KINK, Book 3
PERFECT, Book 4
HIDING, Book 5
SUSPICIOUS, Book 6, coming soon.
Black Ink Series
BLACK INK, Part I
BLACK INK, Part II
BLACK INK, Part III
BLACK INK, The Complete Trilogy, all three parts in one book.
The Program Series
CANVAS, Book 1
TRIFECTA, Book 1.5
BREATHE, Book 2
TORTURED, Book 3, coming soon.
BULL, Book 4, coming soon.
Stand-Alones
THE ROOSTER CLUB, The Best Cocks in Town
CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Books
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
A Note From Me
About The Author
Other Works
SYNOPSIS
Snake
Hell is ruled by a queen.
She wears stilettos like a boss, fishnets like a porn star, and carries weapons like makeup.
She crashed into my life at the absolute worst time, because life’s a bitch like that. But there’s no way I’m letting her leave.
She’s bat-shit crazy, and she’s mine.
Correction, she’s ours. Because I’m not sure how long I can give her.
But she belongs to us now.
The bad guys are coming, not only for all of us, but for her too.
Her situation I can deal with, it’s our mess that’s the problem.
I just have to keep her out of trouble long enough to fix it.
How do you tame the Queen Of Hell?
You save her.
That’s what I’m doing.
Raven
I have rules.
Don’t get attached.
Wear the right heels.
Don’t. Trust. Anyone.
That all went to hell when my life collided with the men of The Program.
It seems if one isn’t threatening me, the other wants to save me.
Everything was fine. Until it wasn’t.
I used to have control. When Snake got a hold of me, it seemed control took a permanent vacation with no forwarding number.
That’s just fine. He’s handed me carte blanche to use him. I’ll use him alright, I’ll let him think he’s the knight in shining armor riding in to save me.
Beware Snake Priest, the Queen Of Hell will always burn the Priest.
I’m wanted…
Dead or alive.
Lyrics Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi, 1986
CHAPTER 1
Snake
Breath.
The very evidence of our existence. All of our life force in such a simple and pure action. It tells so much. Desire, fear, anxiety, calm, everything is expressed in our breaths. It is also a means by which our energy is transferred.
Right now, it’s driving me fucking crazy.
“Dude, back the fuck up,” I pull my head up and back from the laptop in front of me.
“I just want to make sure you’re making the right reservations, Snake. Chill,” Rock doesn’t budge.
His hot breath is slipping down my neck and getting on my damn nerves.
“If you don’t get out of my face, I’m going to lay your ass out right here. Now, back up. Three tickets, you, me, and Tinkerbell.”
I can see Rock’s jaw tense before I hear the low rumble of frustration emanating from his chest.
Yeah, I’m a dick sometimes. I know it still gets on his nerves that I continue to use the nickname he first had for Summer. Especially when I use it to aggravate the piss out of him.
I let out a small laugh.
It’s too fucking easy.
“Right,” he finally says lifting away marginally and giving me some breathing room. “Are you getting them for the entire exhibit?”
I turn back to what I was doing and type in the required information for the hotel reservation, name, address, phone number, number of adults, length of stay, etc. “I’m not going to bother answering that,” I ignore him. And his stupid fucking questions.
He finally stands. “I’m sorry, dude. This is the first time she’s been out of town…,” Rock’s words trail off.
There’s no way in hell we’re leaving her here.
No, Summer hasn’t been out of town since the incident. She hasn’t left our sight, none of us. Rock took her straight to his house after we found her. That’s where she stayed and if Rock wasn’t by her side then I was. Fin
ally, if the two of us weren’t with her when she eventually returned to what she used to do before, then Bull or Gringo were right there.
There was no way we were leaving her alone. Ever.
The thing is, the stakes have just been raised. The jackpot? You guessed it.
Summer.
The price?
Us. All of us.
There’s no other way. They know it. We know it. The hands have been dealt, we’re all taking our places in the game, each of us, me, Rock, Bull, Gringo. Even Summer, although she doesn’t know it, not yet, and hopefully she never will. The hunt is on; the players have been chosen. It’s time to play the first hand.
That’s why we’re going out of town. To see our opponents first card.
We’re going to an expo, Ink & Arms. It’s a gathering of all of the best tattoo artists in the country and a gun exhibition. Which is cool. We get to pick up some toys for our real job while hanging with some of the best talent on this continent.
What's our real job? We're mercenaries, soldiers for hire. We're owned by The Program, a private organization with a militia sector that also has powerful political affiliations, they ensure we don't exist.
But that’s not why we’re really going, although it could be very helpful for the game.
Which is probably the real reason for Rock’s psychotic behavior.
A contract is out to retrieve Summer. But it affects all of us. Because the only way they’re doing that is by killing all for us. What’s waiting for her would be much worse.
Living hell.
She ran from it before. They're sending someone to get her back.
The Grim Reaper.
The only thing standing between her and him is us. Therefore, the contract.
"Do you know if Bull and Gringo have made their arrangements yet?" Rock asks as he hovers behind me.
I enter the last piece of information for our reservations, all names and personal information false of course, then turn to him.
With arms folded across my chest, I sit back in the chair and face him. "Definitively? I don't know." Facts are always important. But gut instinct is crucial.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Rock is dangerous. He's a weapon, we all are. Trained to eliminate a threat without hesitation with no remorse or second thought. My preferred method is my hands. One blow to the right body part, they don't even know it's coming. The vestiges of our humanity only once again resurfaced a few years ago when we arrived in this small town. We only trusted each other. We had to. In the world we lived in of danger and death, enemies and threats, everyone, even the members of The Program, were an adversary. We only allowed familiarity amongst ourselves. That's how we ended up sharing women. Together. At the same time. We were it. One of us hurt, we all did. One of us was threatened, we all were. One of us had good luck, we all did. One of us was going to fuck, we all did.
Not always, but often.
When Summer showed up out of nowhere, Bull saw it first. He recognized something in how Rock watched her from a distance, he sensed something was different. His bond with his brother was so strong, he threatened to make her one of our conquests so Rock would pull his head out of his ass.
"A hunch."
"Elaborate." Rock's tone drops, his eyes narrow, his body is tense.
Our glares lock. "Just a hunch. They haven't confirmed or denied. They've been quiet."
He studies me trying to read me.
"You don't think they're going." It's a statement.
I shrug a shoulder. "It's just a hunch."
Rock takes a heavy breath and looks to the office door. Gringo and Bull would normally be out there in the tattoo shop, Inked, technically Rock's shop but we all work here. This is our facade of normalcy, as normal as we can be, in proper society. Under regular circumstances all of us would be here. Nothing about now is normal. They’re next door with Summer.
"Why?"
I can only guess.
Linking my fingers behind my head, I tell him what I think. "Both of them have something to stay for."
His attention turns back to me.
"You know this for sure?"
Rock has never been a man of a lot of words. It's what’s said between the lines, the unspoken message, that's most important.
"With Gringo, yes, although he hasn't come out and said anything." Another shrug. "Bull is another story."
Rock's jaw clenches, his only sign of how furious he actually is.
"That's unacceptable." His voice is ominously low.
Rock's right.
"I agree with you. But there's nothing you or I can do about it."
He walks behind his desk and takes a seat. The seconds pass with every breath, one continuous flow of time measured in something that encompasses life, something so small and so trivial, yet so profound, a silent decree to existence.
Finally, after a long stretch of silence he states, "There's more going on than we're aware of."
Apparently a shit ton more.
"Things have changed, Rock, for everyone." I watch him.
Things have changed. Even between me and Rock. Maybe not so much changed, but evolved. This man whom I respect, who I would die for without thinking twice. Who I'm in a relationship with Summer.
I can see the thoughts moving at warped speed in his mind, the different scenarios playing out in succession, one right after the other. It must be handled like a serial killer would plot his macabre plan, brilliantly, psychotically, deviously, and fucking ruthlessly. Every angle, every possible set of circumstances and how they would transpire, the players and the innocent casualties. He's strategizing and planning trying to make sure everything goes according to plan, leaving no stone unturned, no door left unopened, determining what could happen, making sure nothing is left to chance. Our plan is materializing, coming together piece by puzzle piece, concrete and flexible, allowing for variations with specific actions. It's a malleable map written in stone.
But there's always a wild card.
The problem is it's always something no one ever sees coming. By the time it's realized it's too late.
His gaze meets mine. "No shit." He gives me a smirk.
I grin at him. "No shit."
Right now we are each two beings. The soldier and the lover. One will kill without mercy, the other would do the same thing for what is theirs. Things aren't black and white. They're grey and red and fucking ugly brown, a shit pot simmering and bubbling waiting for someone to turn up the fire to make it all explode.
"Did we miss something, Snake?" Rock asks me as he looks away, seeing something not visible.
So many things. Things we missed, things we chose to overlook, things we pretended to simply ignore because they were too monstrous. Then there were the other things, things we took, things we created. Things we made up to replace the fucking monsters.
I shake my head, "No, we found something.” His eyes meet mine again. There’s hope, sadness, rage, a storm of emotions raging in them as he grins. A snort of laughter escapes me. “Who the fuck would have ever believed it?”
He smiles, it’s hard and he’s fighting it, but he can’t stop it.
“Maybe that’s exactly why it is the way it is. It’s goddamn poetic,” Rock grunts.
That pisses me off.
“Yeah, because we’re the fucking henchman and the real bad guys appear to be spotless. The scumbags like Summer’s father. Sending the goddamn Reaper to do the dirty work we refused to do.”
His eyes bore into mine.
“That’s exactly why,” he comments dryly as if he’s talking about the weather.
He’s fucking right again.
I turn away.
“It is poetic, a true comedy of errors,” I reply more to myself.
He laughs. The son of a bitch laughs.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” he continues as he leans back in his chair. Again no shit. “The Reaper’s just a pawn,” he goes on, at this point he’s p
robably just verbalizing his thoughts, “One pawn…”
I fold my hands in my lap and sit back too, resting my feet on the desk top, one ankle crossed over the other casually. If a stranger were to walk in on us now they’d never guess we're discussing an upcoming probable war.
“I know. Any possible accomplices of his have been running through my head. The thing is, he’s always worked alone,” I respond.
“It’s no one with him,” Rock’s eyes meet mine again. “The Reaper’s well aware of the situation. But he may not know who else has been contracted.” Another pregnant pause. “This is a game for them now. We know it, the Reaper knows it. We’re all just players making it more interesting for the powers that be.”
I grunt. “I doubt that’s what we are to them. We’re not just toys for the almighty powerful.”
He nods. “No, we’re not.”
I smile, it's sick and twisted. This is going to be good. “It’ll be interesting to see how the game plays.”
Rock laughs again. “Fucking Bull is going to love it. This could be the biggest bet of his life.” Literally.
I can’t help but laugh with him. Bull always takes the bet, no matter the odds.
When we sober, Rock looks back at me. “So Bull too?”
“All things point to it, although he won’t admit it.”
Rock looks off at that thing only he can see in his head.
“I just hope it’s not too late," he murmurs.
Me too, Rock. Me too.
CHAPTER 2
Raven
One foot first, then the other.
The black fishnet hose, then the black shorts, purple lace bra, and Sid Vicious t-shirt. He was a tragedy. Just like me. We know how his story ended, dead from an overdose, alone, miserable, accused of murdering his girlfriend. Let's see what happens with mine. The jury’s still out on that. I sit on the bed and pull on my over the knee black leather sky high stiletto boots with the private pockets inside. I take a deep breath and put on the next piece of attire.
My fucking courage.
Let's get this shit over with.
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