Bennett Mafia

by Tijan

  I sat back, no longer cowering behind the seat.

  “No, no, please no. Don’t do this. No, no, please no.” He spoke faster, the words running into each other until he looked up and saw me. He stopped speaking.

  Kai looked.

  His eyes darkened.

  He was mad at me. I didn’t care.

  I couldn’t look away from this man. He was skinny, his face gaunt as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Seeing me changed something in him. The crying stopped. He sat up. He no longer cowered.

  Kai stepped back to give him space, stepping back again as the man stood.

  The man never looked away from me.

  Kai stepped to block me, but the man yelled, “No! No. I am about to die. I want to stare into the eyes of a woman.”

  A savage growl ripped from Kai. “Get her out of here!” he barked at his men.

  “No! She’s your woman, yes?”

  There was no response. Two of the guards moved toward me, but I held them off. Shaking my head, I stood too. My legs were weak, but I wanted to see this. I didn’t know why. Maybe I didn’t want to be the one cowering in the back? Maybe I didn’t want to put my head in the sand, knowing what was going to happen but letting Kai shield me from it?

  I stepped out, putting a hand up as another of the guards tried to block me. “No. I want to give the man what he wants. We all know what’s going to happen anyway.”

  He wouldn’t hurt me. He couldn’t. Kai wouldn’t let that happen.

  Something whispered to me in the back of my mind. I should stop this. I should try to help him. He was sick—that was obvious—but I remembered waking up to his screams. I remembered the flight attendant. I remembered the other two times Kai had spoken about.

  Even Jonah, even Brooke. They wouldn’t have fought for this man again.

  They were Bennetts, like Tanner said. It blazed inside of me now.

  Kai was a Bennett. Kai was the leader of the Bennetts. He would not let this happen again, and because of that, I said, “Let him see me. Please, Kai.”

  The last guard moved aside, so I stood a few feet behind Kai. The man shifted to the side to see me around him.

  I was a ball of writhing nerves.

  There’s a feeling in the air when you’re about to see someone die. Your gut clenches, and what’s about to happen, you know is wrong. But thinking about it in that brief moment, I couldn’t think of a time when someone’s death had felt right. Maybe if life has been lived to its fullest or the person is crippled in pain with no hope…but I’d never seen that happen.

  However, in this moment, I knew the wrong feeling wasn’t about him dying. The wrong was about how he had lived, the pain and anger that must’ve been with him.

  I was guessing because as I stared into that man’s eyes, I only saw death. Whether it was his, his wife’s, his child’s, I didn’t know. But I saw blackness, and I felt a cold emptiness creep into me. This man’s look of death was different than Kai’s, and maybe I’d think on that later.

  He gave one last strangled scream, launching himself at me, and Kai shot him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  I sat in the back of an SUV, a blanket around me, and I was…calm.

  I shouldn’t have been calm, but I was.

  When we landed, the authorities were en route. Kai’s men bundled me off the plane and had me in the SUV by the time anyone from the government showed up. The pilot had called in a distress signal. I still wasn’t sure what happened. We should’ve gone through customs. I’d been stressing about a passport at one point on the plane. But Kai had it covered. He seemed to have everything covered.

  I figured they’d tell the police it had been self-defense. But Kai had on the guy’s jacket. He’d shot him in such close quarters that it could’ve also been argued as a self-inflicted shot to the head. A suicide.

  Kai spoke to a police detective as the body was carried off the plane on a stretcher. No one took photographs or collected forensic evidence. It was wrong, but this was how the underbelly lived. And in some cases, thrived. Kai was thriving.

  That man would be shuffled into a pile of paperwork. Maybe he would be mislabeled at the morgue. Maybe he’d be cremated sooner than normal.

  Kai would make this go away.

  He nodded to the detective, who put her notepad away. She spoke into her phone like a radio and moved past the stretcher into another vehicle. Kai talked to a few other men, some who had met us on the tarmac. They nodded and shook hands, and Kai turned toward the SUV.

  A guard opened the door. Kai got inside, and as usual, it wasn’t long before the guards got in and our caravan of three vehicles departed.

  Kai only glanced once at me before settling back in his seat, taking his phone out.

  We didn’t talk until thirty minutes in, as our vehicles sped down the highway.

  “You didn’t eat on the plane,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

  My stomach dipped, but not because of that.

  “You murdered him,” I said quietly.

  He put his phone away and turned to face me. “If I let him live—”

  “I know.” I just felt sad. “I heard. He didn’t deny.”

  Neither of us mentioned that according to mafia law, the man should’ve been killed the first time. No exceptions. Kai had given him two. That was more than enough.

  That’s how they thought in that world.

  My stomach shifted. That world. I was becoming part of that world.

  Kai might’ve dragged me over the line, but he had let go, and I’d stayed.

  “Hey.”

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t need to hear concern in his voice. I didn’t want to see it in his eyes either. If I did, I’d succumb. That was my pattern with Kai.

  “We didn’t go through customs,” I said.

  I caught his frown when I looked over. I kept my head down, the blanket bundled around me.

  “We would’ve.” A second of silence. He was gauging me. “Because of the shooter, we landed in a different location.”

  Still. Customs. I’d never snuck into a country where I didn’t have to produce a passport, even if it was a fake one. That was a constant we handled with the Network. We had customs agents on our side who let the fake passports go through. They were sympathetic to the cause. That wasn’t the case here.

  “You had a passport for me?”

  He dipped his head. “Yes.”

  “As who?”

  “As your cover.”

  I spoke without thinking. “The Network would’ve known. I would’ve been flagged in an alert.”

  Silence sat between us, so heavy.

  My employers would’ve known I was with him willingly, that I was staying. I hadn’t thought about what they might be thinking, but now it was so clear it was like someone had grabbed my spine and ripped it out.

  I would’ve never been a 411 operative again. I’d had my doubts already—but it was still my choice, my decision for when I had time to process it. But this would’ve taken it out of my hands. The Network would’ve expelled me the second my cover’s passport was used.

  I would’ve lost everything: Blade. Carol. Even my stupid cover as Raven.

  My mission in life. Where would that have gone?

  Where is it going now? A voice laughed at me, mocking me.

  I blinked, shoving down the turmoil. “How was that man even on the plane?”

  “There’s a storage unit he hid in. It’s accessible to us if we had needed to get in there.”

  “Why’d he wait so long? Why not right away?”

  Kai shook his head. “He was working up his courage? Maybe he lost consciousness and came to again later? Maybe he was waiting for all of us to be sleeping?”

  I picked at the edge of the blanket. My vision started to swim.

  “You seem fine,” I said. It was an accusation. “You don’t seem disturbed. Was this just another Tuesday to you?” A slightly unhinged laugh came from me. “It probably was. I mean, you’re in
the mafia. You control half of Canada. Have you moved into Toronto yet?” I hiccupped, which turned into a snarl. “You can’t, right? You’re not into drugs. There has to be a drug business in Canada. If you’re not running it, who is?”

  There was a look in his eyes.

  I trailed off because I knew. “If you’re not doing it, you’re allowing someone else to do it.”

  His jaw firmed. “Dissecting my business is not the reason you’re here.”

  “Right.” I snorted. “I’m here to help Brooke, or to fuck you.”

  This was pathetic. I was pathetic, because it was true. He’d brought me for those reasons, and sadly, I’d probably do both. Even now.

  “Goddamn you,” I told him. “Goddamn you to hell.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  I needed to get drunk. Fast.

  As soon as we pulled up to the log house nestled among a bunch of trees and overlooking a river, I grabbed my bag and hightailed it inside. Security had already walked through. They were coming out as I walked in, ignoring everything.

  I took the first set of stairs and climbed. Up. Up. All the way until there were no more stairs. I think I was on the third floor. I was a pro at figuring out which room Kai would want me in. I followed the hallway all the way to the back and went into the last bedroom. It was large, with its own sitting room and a library nook. A person could sit there and literally reach forward for their next book. The attached bathroom—shared with another bedroom—had a glass-walled shower big enough for four people to have a dance party. This would be my room.

  I searched for the liquor cabinet. Not finding one, I went to the room across the hall, the one I shared a bathroom with. In the back corner, I found it. I reached for a bottle, not caring what it was. Pushing off the cap, I tipped my head almost at the same time.

  I was guzzling it before I even left the room and entered mine.

  The men were coming inside. I could hear their voices below. The aroma of pizza wafted up to me, and that meant one thing: I needed more alcohol in my system.

  I did not want to feel this self-hatred.

  I was weak. I was an embarrassment to the ideals I’d dedicated my life to: helping others, saving others, protecting others. I was with a man who violated all of those principles, and I should run. I could run now, but I didn’t. I knew I wouldn’t.

  I would give in when he came to me. I almost had to. There was a yearning deep down. I craved Kai. I needed my first fix. I needed to feel him inside of me, claiming me, fucking me.

  I sank to the floor, still clutching that bottle.

  A part of my mind was still thinking clearly, a small part, but it was fast disappearing. I knew I was having a breakdown. Maybe it was from everything or just from that man on the plane, or the fact that there was a man on a plane and everyone acted like it happened every day!

  I was losing it.

  Clambering to the toilet, I cleaned out whatever I’d had in my stomach. Maybe breakfast from a day ago? Would that still be there?

  The bottle in hand, I struggled back to my feet. Good. The more blitzed I was, the better. Though, I was more unsteady because I’d lost everything in my stomach, not from the drinking. Shedding my clothes, I stepped into the shower. I knew I couldn’t wash it off of me, but damn if I wasn’t going to try. I found everything I could’ve asked for. Shampoo. Facial cleanser. Even a toothbrush in a package.

  But I only needed booze, and I chugged down another shot.

  It didn’t help.

  I was dirty, inside and out. I’d never get myself clean, but I would try. Lord help me, I was trying. I scrubbed at my arm when someone stepped into the doorway. They could see me through the see-through glass, but I didn’t care.

  I knew who it was.

  I raised my head and squared my shoulders.

  He could see every inch of my body, and his eyes roamed. My breasts. My stomach. My pussy. My legs. Back up to linger on my pussy. A new level of self-loathing exploded inside me, because an ache for him was forming. Again.

  I felt heated, my breathing hitched.

  When he looked at my breasts, they hardened. My nipples craved him touching them, covering them. His eyes were black now, his lust showing. He parted his lips before he tugged his eyes up to meet mine.

  I ached.

  And I bit my lip because I tried not to let him see.

  But he did.

  He stepped forward, shedding his clothes as he came. He prowled. He stalked me.

  His muscles rippled. God, those muscles. I was in a shower, and my mouth dried at the sight. That said everything. Every inch of him was defined, all the way to his stomach and past when he pushed his pants down. He dropped them on the ground, lifting his feet clear.

  He toed off his shoes and socks. I knew he had a gun. But I didn’t know where it was.

  He paused right before coming into the shower, his boxer briefs still on, and he waited. He waited for me.

  He was giving me this decision.

  I stopped thinking. Stepping out of the shower spray, I walked to him. His eyes never left mine, and they grew hungrier with every inch of space that disappeared between us. I stopped right before him.

  My body was slick.

  His chest lifted in a slow breath. He still didn’t move. He waited.

  And then I lifted the bottle, took a last swig, and handed it over. He took it, set it behind him in the sink. And he waited again.

  My chest rose, a small motion as I filled my lungs once, then closed the distance.

  His heat. He was power. I’d felt it before, but not like this, not when I knew he was going to be inside of me. My breasts touched his chest. My hand skimmed down his side, following the dips and rises of his muscles until it came to his waistband, that one last bit of a barrier between us. My lips grazed over his shoulder as I began to push his boxer briefs down.

  His mouth found mine, and that was it. He took command. Demanding.

  He picked me up, walking back into the shower, and my hand found him. My fingers wrapped around his cock, and I held him as his tongue swept into my mouth.

  He wasn’t inside me yet, but I still felt him. He pushed all the darkness away. It didn’t matter in that moment that he was the reason it was there in the first place. He claimed me, and if I were being honest, I would’ve admitted he’d claimed me long ago.

  He pressed me against the shower wall, and I wound my legs around his waist.

  Our mouths opened over each other, and I groaned, my fingers tightening over him.

  A rush of air left him. He pulled back just enough to growl, “If you don’t put me inside you in the next second—”

  I lined him up with my entrance and pushed my hips down. He waited, letting the tip sink in before he dropped a hand to my waist and thrust the rest of the way.

  There.

  That’s how we were supposed to be, as one.

  Another savage growl left him as he dropped his mouth to my throat. He paused. He was waiting for me again.

  I began moving my hips, rocking into him.

  His hand slid back up my side, grabbing my breast and covering my nipple. He bent, his mouth taking one breast as he kneaded the other. Then he started thrusting. Hard.

  I gasped, a shout working its way out of my throat.

  There was no foreplay here. The entire time I’d been with him was our foreplay. This was now. Enough waiting.

  I rode him as hard as he was fucking me.

  I needed more.

  I laid my head back against the wall, my mouth gaping at the pleasure coating every fucking inch of my body.

  He moved in and out, forceful, and I met every roll of his hips.

  Fucking hell.

  In. Out.

  Harder.

  Deeper.

  Faster.

  I raked my nails down his arms, curving in and holding on for balance.

  I slammed down on him until a guttural groan left him and his hand grabbed my waist. He held me still, then began
thrusting harder. I didn’t think he could’ve, but he did.

  I screamed as I went over the edge and my body spasmed in his arms. My back arched and stayed arched as the waves rammed over me. I dissolved into a puddle as Kai stopped moving.

  “Wha—”

  He carried me out of the shower, still inside me, and took me to my room. Before laying me down, he pulled out, but immediately climbed between my legs once again. I wrapped my hand over his dick.

  He hadn’t come yet.

  As in the shower, I lined him up, and he didn’t wait this time. His hand flexed over my hips, and he moved in. He took his place, and then he screwed me. My entire body moved with the force of his thrusts, and before he’d finished, I felt another climax rising in me. Reaching blindly, I grabbed above me, taking hold of the headboard. Lifting up off the bed, I crossed my ankles behind his back and pushed back at him. He caught my ass, his fingers sinking into my skin. His mouth fell to my breast again. He tasted me as he came, exploding inside, and then I was meeting him.

  I came apart in his arms once again, the fourth time in a span of twenty-four hours.

  Easing out of me, Kai moved to lie next to me.

  I could feel his heart rate slowing, and I knew he could feel mine. He draped an arm over me, his leg twined still with mine.

  “I’m clean. I’m on the pill,” I told him.

  He nodded, his lips grazing my shoulder. “I know.”

  “You know?” I tensed, turning my head to him.

  His fingers circled my breast. “Jonah forwarded your file to me.”

  Jesus. Even with sex, he didn’t mess up.

  I shouldn’t have been shocked. I should’ve learned by now.

  He ran his hand down my stomach, dipping between my legs, and one of his fingers moved inside of me.

  I grunted, lying back down and spreading my legs.

  I’d already come. I didn’t know if I could handle another, but he began moving in and out of me, a slow fucking, almost lazy. As he kept going, I began to move with him. This time, the climax was a slow journey, like the best blanket I’d ever felt warming my insides until the pleasure built, built, and I snapped, the edge coming at me with breakneck speed.