by C. L. Stone
I started pushing at his chest.
He stopped the kiss, his eyes wide, wild. “Kate,” he breathed against my face.
I swallowed, trying to get my body to stop shaking from the chill and excitement and the fear. This was just like every other boyfriend I’d ever lied to. Suddenly, I was ashamed. If he only knew the real me. If he knew I lived in a hotel with a drunk father, and stole money from people to feed and house my brother and I, he probably wouldn’t like that. After all the nonsense I put him through to get to the answers I needed, he’d see me as a hypocrite. I was also in danger. If I got my hopes too high with him, and he left because of my lies ... I didn’t want that pain.
No. The truth was, he was melting through the wall I kept around myself. I’d do anything to stop it. Avoiding heartbreak by never giving out my heart was the best solution.
“I can’t stay,” I breathed. I needed to run. I needed to get away from this place. If I disappeared into the night, knowing he’d never be able to find me, I wouldn’t have to tell him the truth. “I should go.”
“Kate,” he said. “No...”
“I can’t,” I said. I pushed at his bare chest, trying to ignore the pounding heart inside me, and feeling his own under my fingertips. I felt the fine smoothness of his skin, and every desire inside of me screaming that I enjoy and give in, but my brain wouldn’t shut up. I couldn’t enjoy it knowing it was all a lie. “I need to go.”
At first, he looked indecisive. His face lowered.
Suddenly, the gold flecks glinted in the light and something appeared there that I’d not seen before. A driving force. A low growl emerged from his throat. His fingers clutched at my hips. He pushed me down against the bed and his lips fell hard against mine. Stronger this time. His mouth sought out to devour every corner. His tongue split between his teeth, seeking mine and slid along it.
He broke his hold only to clutch at my chin, tilting my head to the side. His lips claimed my jaw and then the skin just below my ear.
“Not tonight,” he said, his tone octaves deeper than before, and that hint of a growl rumbling through every word. His hands roughly massaged my chin. “Kate, you’re not leaving tonight. If you’re going to leave me, if you’re going to walk out on me, fine. Do it in the morning. I may even chase you down if you tried. Tonight, though, you’re staying right here with me.”
“Blake...” I said, pushing lightly at his chest but unable to find the strength like before, or I didn’t really have the heart. “I’m not going to have sex with you,” I said, trying to make it clear.
He nipped at my ear. He didn’t challenge my request. He sunk down, until he could claim a bit of my neck between his lips. He suckled at the skin and released it from his mouth with a pop.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“The real Kate,” he said. He backed his head up, gazing down at me. “I want to know what makes those eyes look so lost whenever you’re not angry, which is almost all the time. I want to know how you learned to pickpocket. I want to know why those bruises are on your body. I want to know how a beautiful, maddening girl ended up crashing into my life and why I can’t stop myself when nothing good could possibly come of this.” He dipped his head, kissed my lips briefly and then backed up again, but only a little, to whisper against my mouth. “And if you think you’re going to try to fight me on this and run away, I’ll kiss the shit out of you until you give up and stay with me.”
Why did he have to be so perfect? Even when I tried to fight him, he stepped up to the challenge. A worthy opponent in every sense. The devil inside me made me push back against his chest, with a coy, eyebrow lift and a playful smirk, feigning resistance. “I shouldn’t,” I whispered, with no real energy to my words. I didn’t want to tell him the truth, but I didn’t want to leave, either. I’d let him kiss me. I’d even kiss him back. I thought that was a pretty good compromise.
But in the next moment, my body jerked with an uncontrollable shiver. I was exhausted and cold, despite his warmth. The wetness of the shorts and the underwear and then the coolness of his bedroom racked me until I was trembling.
Blake didn’t miss a beat. He jumped off of me for a moment, diving into his closet. He pulled out a soft cotton button up shirt with long sleeves. He tossed it at me and pointed to the bathroom. “I’m going to walk in there and put on some shorts to sleep in,” he said. “If you’re not here when I get back out again, I swear...” He wagged a finger at me and his eyes locked on mine, a curious look on his face.
My eyebrows popped up. “What?”
“You’re not going anywhere.” He turned with a satisfied smirk and snatched a pair of boxers out of his closet, marched to the bathroom and closed the door.
By the time he got out of the bedroom, I’d put on the shirt he gave me and kept my underwear. My underwear was wet but I opted to get into bed and stay there instead. I thought I could stand them as long as I got warm. The long sleeved shirt covered my butt for the most part.
I was underneath the blanket, by the time he got out. He ripped the comforter and sheet aside, planting himself beside me.
I didn’t want to talk. My eyelids drooped. The warmth of the bed had me ready to sink into oblivion.
I think it was affecting him, too. When he was beside me, he reached for me, finding my waist and pulling me close. He stuffed an arm under my neck, and another around until he could warm the small of my back with his palm. He held on to me close, warming the coolness of his exposed stomach and chest against me. His leg hooked over one of my thighs, locking into place.
He traced kisses along my face, along my forehead, by my ear. He kissed, soft and slow, until I passed out.
THE REAL BLAKE
Sometime in the middle of the night, I felt him shift and move away. Half asleep and disoriented, my heart broke over his leaving me. Then I realized he’d probably just gone to the bathroom and turned over on the bed, wrapping all the covers around me so when he got back, he wouldn’t have any.
Voices drifted to me. I turned over. It took my brain a while to realize that the bathroom door was open and the light was on, shining into the room. Blake wasn’t in the bathroom. Where did he go?
I rose, checking the time on a clock. It was about two in the morning. I went to his closet, found another pair of boxer shorts and stepped into them. I didn’t want to walk around the house half naked. At least my panties had moderately dried.
I padded out into the hallway, following the length of carpet runner. The voices were louder now. I don’t know why it bothered me, but it did. I willed my heart to stop pounding, trying to give myself some sort of explanation for what was going on. It didn’t sound like a television. I hadn’t seen a maid or servant here, but the house was spotless and the bed was made when we’d returned. I assumed someone did that. Was he talking to one of them now? Since I never saw anyone but him in the house, it was hard to conceive someone else might be here. I imagined invisible servants wandering around, doing his bidding. If you’re rich enough, you can afford invisibility.
I eased my way to the front stairs, following the sounds. On the first floor, I paused as the words became easier to make out.
“You’ve risked my entire business,” a young male voice said.
“You shouldn’t have been in business in the first place,” Blake responded.
Talking business at two in the morning? I inched down the hallway to listen in.
“You don’t understand,” the young man said. “No one will do business with me anymore. I’m marked now.”
“And with good reason,” Blake said. “You were the one stupid enough to get poor quality merchandise from a competitor to this territory. Did you think you were smarter than they were? That they wouldn’t figure it out?”
“The man said they’d buy it for three times what I paid. He promised—”
“Well, what do you expect?” Blake said, his voice stern, with a confidence I recognized from his business transaction earlier, once he had gott
en serious. “He’s the one who knew exactly what he was doing. You’re a spoiled kid whose trust fund ran out and he was trying to put one over on you.”
“He’s going to come after me.”
“The cartels would have, too, once they found out someone was distributing stuff that almost killed off their market. Do you know who they would have pointed the finger at? You. And they’d come after your family, which is why they had to go into hiding in the first place. I can’t believe you’re standing here arguing about your business when that little sister of yours—”
“That’s not my sister,” he spat out.
I got to a door that was cracked open and peeked inside. Blake was in an office, with a big mahogany desk dead center in the room. He had on a dark gray bathrobe in a shiny silk material, though the chest hung open as if he’d thrown it on in a hurry.
In front of him was a young man, and at first I didn’t recognize him since his back was turned to me. I eased the door open a little more.
And then I recognized him. It was the guy from the party, the one that was acting odd. I’d only saw him that night, but I was sure. What was he doing here?
“I want you to give me the drugs back,” he said.
“I can’t do that. Your dad hired me to get the stuff and get rid of it.”
I sucked in a breath. This kid was who brought it into town? What did it mean that his father had hired Blake?
“You don’t understand. He expected that stuff to go out on the street.”
“He expected it to kill a bunch of people and shake up the market. He wanted to create distrust in the system.”
The guy jerked his head back and gave a small snort. “Who cares what the drug-heads do? But this guy will come after me and kill me if he thinks I didn’t complete the deal. He’s on my ass.”
“You shouldn’t have been doing deals. This isn’t the movies. Whatever he promised you is a lie. You need to go home. Lay low for a while.”
“I’m not staying home,” the guy said.
“Jason,” Blake said sharply. He squared off with him. “Listen to me. You’ve got one shot to live right now. Keep your head down. Stay at home. I know you’ve been prowling around, but the house I got for you and your family is a secure place. If you’re running around, you’re putting more than just your life at risk. The cartels know you got into the middle of this. You’re lucky they’re not after you.”
“What about this guy? He’s going to kill me. You may have had my dad move from the downtown house, but it won’t take long for him to figure it out.”
“If things go according to plan, you won’t have to worry about it.”
My breath stopped. He’d said Doyle was checking for the source. Wouldn’t this guy know the source if he’s the one Blake was protecting?
“What plan?” Jason asked, the same question I had in my mind.
Blake drew his shoulders back, breathing in deep and letting a puff of air out slowly. “They wanted me to make sure this distributor never tries something like this again.”
“You’re going to shoot him? Is that it?”
“No.” Blake made a face. “Who do you think I am? We’ll just give him a taste of his own medicine. There’s a well in that village. We’ll get rid of this batch there. Once the locals start fighting amongst themselves, sick with the same poison, that’ll send the message.”
Jason marched forward, nearly toppling the chair he was standing in front of. “Then he’ll really come after me! He’ll kill me!”
“He’ll come after the cartel. They’ve been in contact. They want their mark left behind.”
“Is that who you work for?”
“It’s who’s interested in what’s going on here. They control the territory. They’re sending a clear message. Stay out. We’re taking this war out of the city.” He pointed a finger at Jason’s face. “The war you started. You’re lucky we caught this in time. If this got out wider than it had, if the police caught on and exposed everything, it would have been the cartels after your ass.”
I backed up, terrified by what I was hearing. My heart was going crazy. Blake Coaltar worked for a Mexican drug cartel? He helped this bratty guy and was going to poison a well in a village? What war?
All the fears I’d thought I’d gotten rid of swept into me with a ruthless drop across my eyes and weighed heavily along my chest and shoulders. If he had been a simple drug dealer for the wealthy people in his circles, it would have been better. This ... this was so much worse. He was helping the cartels! That was horrible, wasn’t it? And he had me help him?
I had to run. I had to get out of there. I was getting mixed up in things I didn’t understand, couldn’t figure out in the moment.
“Kate?” Blake said, and I jumped, driven out of my wild thoughts.
I bolted, not wanting to hear another word. I made a dash for the front door.
“Kate! Stop!” Blake called after me.
To my surprise, the door was open, probably because Jason had visited and Blake left it unlocked. I shoved it open until it crashed into the wall and dashed out.
The rain hadn’t let up. I jumped down the front porch steps in my bare feet, and raced through the open iron gate.
I ran across the street, to the park. I changed course, running barefoot through the grass, through the maze of trees, hoping to lose him if he was chasing me.
DELIVERANCE
I emerged on the far side of the park, and dashed down a side road between two houses. I kept cutting through streets to make sure I wasn’t being followed.
I probably looked like a mad woman running like I was, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. Blake was bad. The boys were right. I should have never done this alone. Now I knew everything. I had to get back. I had to get help. He could find me. He could find Wil.
I’d heard things about the cartels from Mexico, the reports about how they distributed the most drugs in the United States. How they had legions of military-trained assassins from the Mexican army and they controlled most of Mexico, and how that war was spilling out of the country and going global. All the ghost stories I’d heard in high school about not messing with drug dealers or distributors or you’d get into the line of fire, it all came to me. If you didn’t want to get involved, you got out of their way. Live in ignorant bliss. It was the way you survived. Someone else, the police, the DEA, those were the ones fighting that war.
And even then, that didn’t include the underground war. I remembered that from some Internet articles I’d read. The claim of territories. The control of distribution. Creation. Civil services to instill trust in buyers. Factions sought to take out others and become more powerful. It was a battle that never made the news if they could help it. The war normal people never saw.
I’d ignored it, like everyone else who didn’t live among it, and then suddenly I was in the middle of everything I’d willingly blinded myself from.
It wasn’t until I was several blocks away that I slowed. My feet ached from running barefoot on the pavement, uneven bricks and the occasional gravel. The rain pelted against me, and rivulets of water ran from my hair down my forehead, dripping into my eyes. I wrapped my arms around my body, pushing the shirt against my skin, trying to keep in whatever warmth my body could produce.
I had to find a street sign to get my bearings and start heading south. If I could make it to the river...
But I was lost. The dim street lights and the houses that all seemed to look the same confused me. My panicked state wasn’t helping, but I couldn’t slow down. I needed help. It was so late and there wasn’t anyone driving by.
I was about to try heading east again but after another house, I saw a familiar-looking lake. I ran for it and by the time I got to the corner of the park, I could see the lights of a single high rise apartment building. The Sergeant Jasper.
My heart lifted. And at the same time, I walked slowly toward it. Nerves caught up with me. The boys would be angry with me. I’d have to hide forever. Marc
might still be mad I shot him in the leg with the nail gun. Maybe they wouldn’t even believe me. After what I’d done, I wasn’t sure I could explain.
But I had nowhere else to go, especially if Wil was in danger already.
I continued to wipe at my face, taking the long way around the lake. The area was barren now, but a few lights reflected on the surface in shimmers and it rippled with the rain. It broke up that better world I had imagined earlier, becoming a nightmare of strange shadows and colors.
I entered the building from the back door. The shirt stuck to my skin, and dripped to the tile floor. It didn’t at all mask my nakedness underneath. The black boxers were jacked up high on my hips and stuck in places I didn’t want to think about. I must have looked like a royal mess. I wondered if security would even let me upstairs.
To my surprise and relief, the security guard wasn’t at the podium. Either temporarily in the bathroom or checking out another problem elsewhere. Either way, I dashed to the elevator, hopping inside, and pressed at the button for the seventh floor.
I stood outside of apartment 737, shaking. In my head, I was trying to come up with excuses. I ran through scenarios. I was trying to come up with lies and my frantic brain wasn’t able to piece together a good enough story. I thought if they wouldn’t let me in, if they sent me away, I’d at least beg for clothes or a ride back to the hotel. I’d ask for my things back. I’d go back to the hotel. I’d find Wil. If I had to, I’d make him go with me to another hotel or something. Whatever I had to do.
I stared down the door, willing it to tell me the mood of anyone inside. It wasn’t answering, so I knocked. My rattling bones shook, leaving me unable to knock too strongly. I wasn’t sure anyone would hear. I wrapped my arms around my body as if to hold myself together against my shivering.
I was about to knock again when the door opened. Brandon materialized. He wore a blue T-shirt and black boxer shorts. Part of the T-shirt got hung up on his side, revealing part of the golden tanned abs near the waistband. His eyes were slits, as if I’d woken him. His hair was mussed, the short, sun-kissed strands pressed against his head.