by L. J. Woods
“We gotta go,” Christian’s in my ringing ear but the world won't stop spinning. I’m trying to get a view of my dad but all I see are his legs on the ground, blood pooling around his feet.
Isaac drops in beside me, crouching. “Your man’s right, Ray. This James Bond shit was fun but I’m too pretty to die.” How he’s making a joke at a time like this is beyond me.
My stomach churns. “Dad." My voice is a hoarse call before I’m in Christian’s arms, hovering above the floor.
Looking over his shoulder, Isaac aims his gun at the chaos. Bullets hit metal and pipes, pinging around the room. Christian tucks me to the side of the oven but I’m fighting out of his hold. “My dad! He—”
“Ray, we gotta fucking go!” Christian yells over the gunfire.
“Scorpions!” That’s Owl’s voice.
“Get her out of here!” August yells. “Now! We’ll cover you.”
I’m pulling on the oven, fighting to see if my dad’s dead or alive but Christian’s pull is harder, bullets loud around us. He heads towards the back metal door where Isaac holds it open before cold air slaps my face.
I’m ready to climb over Christian’s back when Gull comes out the door behind us. “Bring her back to Eden,” he says, Christian strapping me into Isaac’s car. “Don’t come back. Keep her safe. I’ll follow you up when we’re done.”
“Gull!” I call, my eyes a blur, my entire body burning. He turns around, gun in hand. “My dad’s in there!”
His face is grim when he nods, turning towards the warehouse, his shirt already covered in blood.
When Isaac takes off, the warehouse growing distant in the rearview, I don’t feel as safe as I should at this moment. Not as relieved as I should feel knowing I’ve escaped the Spades. Or knowing Christian is safe.
I can’t relax, my nails down to their beds. I don’t know if I’ll ever see my family again.
Thirty-One
Rayne
Three hours.
Three whole hours not knowing if my dad and my brother are dead or alive.
Eating is not an option. Neither is sleeping.
Isaac and Lexi are up with us, sitting in the yard with an ashtray of roaches on the outdoor coffee table. There’s no music. The wind rustles the trees, crickets in the distance.
It's tranquil but my mind is far from at peace.
The only thing keeping me together is being in Christian’s arms. His fresh and spicy scent soothes me while I try to ignore the bloody scenarios in my head. His arm around me, he pulls me close, a kiss on my head. Warmth. Comfort.
After everything, Christian Perez still showed up for me.
In the biggest way.
Not only that, but he risked his life for me.
“You’re so fucking stupid,” I shake my head, staring out at the blades of grass. “They could’ve killed you.” My eyes wander over to Isaac and Lexi, dozed off on each other, Lexi’s head on his shoulder. My stomach wrenches thinking of Christian in Ace’s hold again. “He could’ve done anything. He could’ve—”
Christian cuts me off with his lips on mine. Delicious, sweet ecstasy. “It’s pretty fucking clear I’d risk it all for you, Ray.” His arm tightens around me. “We’re in way too deep now.”
“You mean, you’re in way too deep.” Isaac sits up, blinking. He looks at Lexi, her mouth open wide on his sleeve before he pushes her to the side. Her head falls back against the green outdoor cushion. “That shit was reckless. She’s right, man. You could’ve died.” Reaching for a half-finished joint in the middle of the table, he lights it up.
“After what happened with my mom, I can't live knowing Ray isn't safe and if that puts me at risk,” he shrugs. “So be it. I don’t have anything to lose except her.”
His words ignite heat in my core. So does the way he looks at me with those glittering greens. I’m not sure what’s changed between his mom’s funeral and now but there’s a big shift, and it brings relief to my chest.
I’m already stoned when Gull comes around the side of the building, his shirt covered in blood, so are his tattooed arms. Christian sits up with me.
“Oh, hello!” Lexi stretches as she wakes up to our movements, her eyes wandering Gull’s bulky frame. She blinks. “Where do I get myself one of you?”
Isaac glances her way, pulling hard on the joint. “Is that the first thing you think of when you wake up? Dick?”
Lexi slaps his knee, her small eyes narrowing. “You’re just mad because it’s not your dick.”
“August went back to The Grove with the guys,” Gull says, a weight lifting off my chest when I hear he’s okay. He’s twisting something between his fingers and while he’s not a man of many words, it looks like he’s hiding something. “He uh, he wanted me to give you this.”
My eyes narrow. “Where’s my dad, Gull?” My grip tightens on Christian’s thigh.
Gull walks over, holding out a fist. I raise a brow, bumping mine with his. His brows furrow before he shakes his head. “No, gimme your hand.”
“Gull,” I hesitate, trying to read his cues but he’s a book that’s hard to crack. “Where’s my dad?”
“Gimme your hand, Ray.”
With a sigh, I open my palm. He places his fist inside before he drops something hard into it. It’s not heavy but it has a little weight.
When I open my palm, my dad’s gold wedding ring sits inside. He’s kept it on regardless of Mom being gone for a decade. So, why does Gull have it?
I look up at Gull, my chest feeling like it’s ripping apart. “Wh—”
“We couldn’t do anything,” he explains, his head hanging on his thick neck. “I’m sorry.”
I wait for it. For the tears. For my body to give out and collapse like what I see in movies. For me to wail about my lost parents.
They’re both gone. Taken from me. They’ll never see me reach my full potential. They’ll never see me grab my dreams. The last thing I saw on my dad’s face was disappointment and now he’s gone.
The raging fire grows inside me.
“Ray …” Christian says my name but all I hear is ringing in my ears, my nails sinking into my palm.
“We’re taking care of it,” Gull confirms before he turns to walk away. He looks over his shoulder. “We will take care of it.” That’s the last thing he says before he leaves.
Silence fills the air for a few moments. Isaac and Lexi quiet for once.
“Ray,” Christian's hand comes up and down my back as I stare at the ring in my hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“This is what I get, right?” I ask. “For all my wrong choices? All my bad decisions?”
“Hey, this isn’t your fault."
“Everything is my fault Christian,” I explain, my grip tightening around the ring. Lexi and Isaac excuse themselves. Well, Isaac does before he demands Lexi inside. “If I hadn’t come back, your mom would still be alive. My dad would still be alive. We wouldn’t have killed someone. You wouldn’t have almost died today I—”
“We’re in this together, mi reina.” He kisses me again, the pain dissipating on his lips for as long as he holds it there. His greens hit mine, dazzling when he pulls back. “You understand that? Whatever we need to get through, we’ll get through it. Together.”
My head against his, I try to protest but he doesn’t let me.
“I’m not leaving you now.” He brushes my bangs out of my eye with his thumb, a small gesture that sends that blanket of comfort over me. “With you, I feel more at home than I’ve ever felt here and this Tony Montana shit doesn’t make this easy but I want you. I want us. You’re my home. I will go where you go, whether you want me to or not.” His blatant obsessiveness makes a teary smile pull at my face. “This place isn’t my home, Ray. You are.”
“Loco.” It’s hard to pull my eyes away from his and while it’s harder than ever to let go, I can’t be the one to bring him down. “Christian, your mom is de—”
“And you would’ve been if I didn’t find your bro
ther.”
My brows furrow. “What do you mean you found him?”
“Lexi told me she hadn’t seen you in days and I thought the worst so I went to see your dad." He stalls, like he knows my emotions are still raw and open. "He told me to stay away and I told him I couldn’t do that. But I also told him you’d be safe with me.”
There’s a lightness in my chest when I realize those were Christian’s last words to my dad. He does just that. He keeps me safe.
“August overheard and when he said he hadn’t seen you, we both knew it had to be Ace.” He continues, boring his gaze into me. “So your brother used me as a distraction and fuck, Ray, I’d do it again.” His eyes dance with mine and it’s like seeing him for the first time in years all over again. Like something is shifting between us for another time.
“Why?” Even after hearing his words, it’s like my body and my mind are fighting against each other. Like I’d ever be that lucky to have someone fight this hard for me. “Why would you do that? After all this shit?”
“‘Cause I—” He stalls again, my brows lifting and it feels like I forgot how to breathe. He lets out a chuckle. Not that sexy, rolling one. This one sounds kind of nervous and it makes my heart pound. “I guess you’re not the only one who’s a little crazy.”
He looks so sincere, so convinced of his words that it makes my barrier crumble. And all I want is that feeling again. The one thing that makes me feel like everything is okay and I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, drugs, or the emotions swirling inside me but I want more.
My mouth slams on his and he pulls me close before we melt into each other all over again. Grabbing his shirt, I tug it to pull him on top of me but he hesitates. Like he knows finding out your dad died isn’t the time to want to get frisky but all I want to do is be lost in him.
“Christian,” I tug on his shirt. “Please, just …”
He growls, tugging the jersey I’m wearing over my head. “Beg for it, Loca.”
I do, and right now I don't care how needy I sound. I know what I want and it's Christian Perez. "Please, mi rey. Make me yours.”
His mouth covers my perky nipple like he’s ravenous. Hungry for more and the warmth from his mouth only fuels my desire. Tossing my legs to the side, he tugs the boxers I’m wearing down with a hard pull, cold air over my folds. When he pushes his fingers inside my wet, wanting hole, it’s all I need for all the pain to drift away.
“Don’t call me crazy,” I moan through the way he works and curls his fingers.
“Mi reina,” he grunts into my ear when he pushes the head of his cock inside me.
When he bottoms out it feels like nostalgia and excitement. Like I'm spiraling into a pool of euphoria. My nails rake up his back before I get his shirt over his head, his new name for me twisting my insides, healing the pain. “More,” I moan, moving my hips with him, my ass grinding into the cushion.
He has this intense look on his face when my eyes lock with his, sweat glistening on his forehead, yearning in his gaze. “You sound like a queen.” With his hand over my mouth, he thrusts into me with need. “Greedy.” Deep, hungry need as I let out cries against his palm. “Now be quiet.”
My nails slash up his back when he buries himself inside me. It’s like he knows I’m trying to drive away the pain with the way his hips work in tandem with mine. He goes quicker when I do, harder when my nails sink into his smooth, soft skin.
“I’ll take care of you, Ray,” he groans into my ear, his balls slapping against me. “I’ll take care of everything.”
His teeth sink into my neck as he continues his toe-curling pace, my legs wrapped around him like I never want to let go. His hand slides under my ass, his finger at my tiny hole and it makes rolls of tingling pleasure burst through me.
“Harder,” I demand, his finger moving in pace with his cock as I fight back the memories. The last words from my dad. He had no idea what was going on. He didn’t have a chance and they led him right to his death.
My back arches against the cushion, Christian’s groans in my ear. My peak builds inside me, his cock hitting my spot again and again. My eyes widen on the night sky as I arch against the sofa, the stars blurring above.
When I finally reach my peak, all my senses light on fire, clarity hitting me as the words escape my lips, “I’m going to kill him.” Christian says something at the same time, a growl into my neck but I don’t register it until his eyes hit mine. “What?” I ask.
His thrusts come to a stop. “No. You’re not doing that.”
“What did you say?” I ask again, my heart thumping against my chest.
He hesitates, his eyes roaming my face before he leans in and his lips touch mine. It’s gentle. Sweet. Like he’s trying to send a message when he says, “I love you, Ray. And I can’t let you do that. I didn’t risk my life for you to put yourself in danger again. Don’t be stupid, Loca.”
There’s a mix of emotions in my gut.
Relief.
Fear.
Desperation.
Sass comes out instead, “You call me stupid and crazy in the same sentence?” I try to push on his chest but he keeps me in place, his hands moving to my wrist.
“If you keep acting like it,” he says. “Let me take care of you. We can move past this. Together.” He starts moving his hips again, his cock throbbing inside me and it’s hard to ignore the ripples of post-orgasm pleasure rolling through me.
“I don’t need you to do this with me, Perez.” I hang on while his pace quickens. “I can handle it on my oh—ooowwn. Fuck.”
His hand moves to my neck, keeping me in place while he fucks me harder, his chest and neck sweaty as he grinds his hips into me.
“But I need you” His eyes come closer to mine. “I need you, Ray.” I’m about to reach another peak, another orgasm rolling in like a freight train. His thrusts match his every word. “I. Won’t. Lose You.” His jaw clenches, a growl coming from his throat. He throbs, thrusting into my shaking body until he lets it all out, and collapses onto my chest.
Hearing him say those words quells the fire burning inside me, replacing it with another blaze instead. One that burns red-hot for him.
Moving a strand of sweaty hair out of my face, he presses his lips to mine before he whispers against my face, “That’s a promise, Rose. Me and you. From here on out."
Thirty-Two
Christian
“Mi reina.”
It’s the only way to describe her. Even with her lips wrapped around that fancy bottle of scotch in her fishnets, boots and a long black tee. She might not look like Eden royalty but Rayne is a queen in my eyes. And that's all that matters.
“Hey, how you holding up?” Approaching her, she shrugs, looking around the space.
Red and black roses fill Isaac’s kitchen along with a display of fine hor d’oeuvres and bottles of booze. Instead of performers and half-naked girls, Isaac's mansion holds a smaller somber crowd. All in black.
“Thanks for all this,” she says, leaning against the same island I had her against that night of the party. Whiskey in hand and all. Vanilla and amber relax me as she pulls me closer by my black tie, the same one I wore to my mom’s funeral. Alcohol comes off her breath but that doesn’t stop me from getting a taste of her.
“Thank you." Her words land on my mouth.
With a nibble of her lip, I get a taste of her dark lipstick. Mocha. “If you're thanking me for that kiss, wait until you see what I have in my pants."
“Really, Perez.” Her gaze flicks up to mine. “I couldn’t have put this together without you and while he was a hardass, he deserves it.”
“I know,” I remind her, a single tear dropping from her eye. When that tear falls down her cheek, I kiss it away.
“I couldn’t have made it through this week without you,” she says.
“You’re just saying that because I got you out of classes.”
“I’m saying that because you’ve been my everything.” Her dazed eyes meet min
e and when she kisses me again, I forget we have guests, my entire body falling into her touch.
As I'm lifting her firm ass on the island, we're interrupted by clicking on the stone floor.
“Are you Rayne Rose?”
A short-haired brunette enters the room. Designer purse, expensive dress. She fits Eden to a tee but I don’t recognize her. Letting go of Rayne, I take a step towards her, hands out. My publicist says this’ll make me look suspicious considering my girlfriend’s circles but I don’t care.
“Who let you in here?” I demand. “This is a private gathering.”
“I understand, but this is the only chance I have,” she says. “Forgive me. My condolences but I’m from Puffin Press.”
“I don’t care—”
A hand comes to my shoulders. Rayne’s. “Puffin? I’m Rayne.”
“Well, I’m on a book tour with my client, Georgina Du Pont, and Charley, my colleague, gave me word that you’d be around.” She smiles but I don’t know if that's consolation or excitement. Rayne’s nail comes between her teeth before I take that hand in mine. “She thought it better I tell you in person. I told her the funeral is not the place, but here I am.” She looks around the room with a nervous laugh but Rayne’s eyes bore into her. It’s not her usual look. It’s not rage or anger. It’s confusion.
Handling the death of our parents is hard but together it’s been doable. So doable Rayne’s inspired to write every day. She finished her draft for Puffin. It’s only been a couple of days since she sent it in so I know this must be driving her crazy.
“And?” Ray asks, grabbing the bottle off the island. “Here to let me down easy ‘cause my dad’s dead?”
“No!" Brunette takes a step back. I'm used to Ray, but she isn't. "Quite the opposite. We’re here to tell you we loved it! It was raw. Layered with emotion and trauma only an authentic voice like yours can portray. And actually, we want to work with you.”
The kitchen fills with silence as Ray narrows her eyes at the woman. After a beat, she says, “Listen, today is not the day to fuck with me.” Rayne waves her off. She’s way too used to getting bad news to take this in.