Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
I don’t bother to point out his possessiveness. A statement of fact we both already understand serves no purpose. “I’m not going to be for long,” I assure him. “We need to talk. In private.”
“I tried that, and you walked away.”
“Not about your shitty decisions under my radar. I had a visitor tonight. You can guess who.”
“I heard,” he murmurs, his voice as sharp as a fresh blade. “Is he dead?”
“Assuming as much is a stretch and a compliment that will get you nowhere, Kane. You’re in deep shit with me.”
“You need to step back and see what I did for what it is. I made sure my father can’t control us. We control him.”
“They control us,” I say in obvious reference to the mob.
“You’re underestimating both of us if you think that’s true. No one can control us now, not even Ghost.”
Ghost is one of the main reasons I taunted the bear, aka Kane, into following Enrique over here. He knows Ghost, probably better than even I know he knows him. But we’ve said too much where we stand, and as if he’s in the same headspace, Kane motions toward the SUV where Kit has made himself scarce.
We rotate together, in tune with one another even when at odds, and for a moment, just a moment, I like how that feels. And that like, that love, softens my anger without ending it. He believes he took control. I’m not sure how the mob lends itself to that premise, and right now, it’s me who needs to be in control.
Not Elsa. And sure as fuck not Ghost. Right now, that’s exactly what feels like is happening. He’s in control. I wonder if Elsa has figured that out yet. I’d call her and make sure she does, but she doesn’t have her phone with her.
We reach the SUV, and again, Kane and I rotate to face each other. He steps closer. “Damn it, woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”
“That’s exactly right,” I assure him, even as his hand comes down on my face and his mouth crashes over mine. His lips are warm, a stark contrast to the cold night air and the death that suffocates me in its finality.
I don’t resist him. I’m not that selfless, I’m just not. I will take the last donut. I will eat the whole pie. I will allow Kane to make me moan. I’m angry with him, I might as well enjoy him while I allow him to live. Besides, you learn a lot about a man in how he kisses you.
For instance, Kane tastes of whiskey and worry, and some salty something that is as addictive as this man needing me as much as he does. There was a time when I wouldn’t have admitted I want this from him, even crave this from him, and this is exactly why. It distracts me. It’s dangerous, and this has gone too far.
I shove away from him.
“Stop kissing me like I almost died or you’re about to.” I point up at him. I seem to be a pointer today. It must be my way of not hitting everyone, especially him. “You need to stop a lot of things right now.”
“All right,” he states, anger ripping a note in his words. “What the hell was Ghost doing here?”
“That’s complicated.”
“I’m not exactly a simple man, bella, in case you didn’t notice.”
No, I think. He is not, but he sure as fuck makes burying a body as simple. The question is, why doesn’t Ghost know that, and was tonight even about me? Was Ghost challenging Kane? And if so, why?
Chapter Fifteen
If you ever wondered what it’s like to stand at the base of a volcano about to erupt, live vicariously through me now. I dare you.
Kane stares at me, and I swear I can see the fires of Hell glow in the depths of his otherwise brown eyes. Ghost has crossed a line with him, and I can’t believe Ghost is dumb enough to do such a thing. He had to have known he was taunting a bull; but then, Ghost planned to kill me. Did he plan to kill Kane, too?
Taunt him?
What is really going on here?
Nothing good, and there really isn’t any way around telling Kane the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, no matter what it ignites in him.
I steel myself and get right to the worst of it. “Ghost called me from a burner phone.”
“Ghost called you?” Kane’s voice is low, steady, but there is the promise of death in those words. “How the fuck does he even have your number?”
“He clearly has his own version of Tic Tac.”
“Why? What did he want?”
“We need to backtrack a minute for you to have context.”
“What fucking context, Lilah?”
Okay, then. He’s prickly times ten fucking thousand. “There was a committee that denied Clyde Walker a contract for personal gains. He killed himself, at least officially per the records. We believe his grown kids tried to hire a hitman to take out the committee members, which included Murphy, as a point of interest, and the vice president. No one would take the job; therefore, the daughter, who’s a sniper, is doing the job herself.”