Chasing Fire (The Fire Duet Book 1)

by Billie Lustig

  His dark blue eyes look like they are going to shoot lasers any second now, and the silence in the room is deafening. I keep my gaze on his, not planning on breaking eye contact. We’ve done this about a hundred times, and I always win.

  Because I’m the bigger asshole.

  The seconds tick by, and I’m not even sure if it’s seconds or minutes before I see his eyes soften just a little bit. This is the point when I know I’ve won. He clenches his jaw in annoyance before slamming the desk again. Not at all like last time, it’s nothing more than a small thud that announces the end of our power play.

  “Damn it, Kane. What is it with this girl? She is Cristina’s cousin, for Christ’s sake. Why are you wooing her? Make her trust you, okay. But you’re acting like she is your fucking girlfriend.” He rubs his hands over his five o’clock shadow.

  “Fuck if I know,” I admit honestly. I wish I knew what it is about this girl. I have no explanation. My head keeps wanting to do things for her, and I have no idea why. I have no idea why I care. I let out a frustrated growl while I rub the back of my neck.

  “Do you have feelings for this girl?”

  “Fuck no. Don’t say pussy shit like that to me.”

  “Really? Because the nicest thing you ever did for a girl you slept with was let your driver take her home. Yet here you’re giving her free rein to roam the yacht, even though she is our prisoner. What easier way is there to keep her out of the picture until you want to fuck her again than give her a luxurious getaway?”

  He catches my surprised face.

  “Yeah, Ferry told me.”

  That fuckface has been trying to undermine me against Liam every chance he’s had since he started working for us six months ago.

  “I swear to God, I’m gonna kill his sorry ass if he doesn’t start to realize he works for us both.” I scowl, clenching my jaw. How the fuck am I going to get Liam off my back if his little spy is keeping tabs on me?

  “Again,” he says in a much calmer voice as he leans his arms on the desk, the sleeves of his gray dress shirt are rolled up, “not the point. Look, you have to tell me what your endgame is with this girl, because I’m lost here. She is our prisoner, but you sure as hell aren’t treating her like one.”

  “She is the only one who can tell us where her Hispanic bastard of a father is.”

  “You said that, but why would she tell you?”

  “She trusts me, I can feel it. I will get it out of her.”

  “That’s it.” His face tells me he calls bullshit, and I can’t totally deny it.

  “I don’t know, okay?”

  “You don’t know? Well, now I know we really are fucked. You always know. Does she have a golden pussy or something? Sucks dick like a Hoover?”

  Like a Lamborghini going from zero to a hundred in two seconds, my rage fills the room.

  “Don’t you talk about her like that,” I roar, pointing my finger at his face, “because I will throw you overboard if I have to.”

  He furrows his brows and crosses his arm in front of his chest, making his shirt hug his upper body even tighter. An arrogant smirk splits his face, and I roll my eyes when I realize what I just did. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

  Fuck me. I just laid all my cards on the table by losing my temper. I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to rub away the headache that I feel coming to the surface.

  “Yeah, you clearly don’t feel anything for this girl,” he deadpans.

  I let out a prolonged sigh, my gaze on the floor. I don’t even know what to say right now. This whole mission went from simple and routine to complex and fucked up within twelve hours. I thought fucking her again was going to release the sexual tension that was clearly still there.

  Instead, I’m hooked.

  She plays poker to get close to her targets. But I’d thought if I had a royal flush in my hand, I was guaranteed to win this game. Right now, though, I feel like I went all in with a pair of twos. Like a goddamn amateur. But there is something that compels me to go all in despite my hand. I want to know more about this girl. I want to see more of this girl. I want her wrapped around my body until she screams my name.

  Again.

  “Then what’s going on, Kane?”

  I lean forward with my elbows on my knees, rubbing my knuckles while my eyes move back up.

  “I respect her.”

  “Okay …” He makes a rolling gesture with his hand, pushing me to say more.

  “I respect the way she’s handling this whole situation. She stands no chance but still holds her own, demanding we treat her like a person instead of a prisoner. Any other girl would have been crying in a corner, but she hasn’t shed a tear. The other day I almost choked her in to submission because she was talking back to me, and she didn’t even flinch. I respect her, and I’d rather have her working with us than against us.” It’s the only explanation I have, the only explanation I can voice because I have no proof for my other suspicion.

  Liam slowly rubs his face. I can almost hear his brain working on some kind of response, even though I doubt it’s going to be one I want to hear. I keep rubbing my knuckles in anticipation.

  “You have to trust me on this one.”

  “I don’t trust her.”

  “Trust me, she won’t be a problem.”

  His attention moves to a knocking at the door.

  “Come in!” I yell behind me. I turn my body, and Jeremy peaks his head inside.

  “Boss, you asked for that extra information about Callie.” He holds a red file in front of his body while he closes the door behind him and walks to hand it to me. “I think you should see this. It’s everything I could find so far, but I think I can find more if I dig in to her mother.”

  I grab the file out of his hand and open it. My eyes roam the papers until I find the one I was hoping for.

  “I knew it!” I blurt out.

  “What?” Liam barks. I ignore him while I keep reading.

  Fuck.

  I knew the Reyes family was a sick bunch of bastards, but I wasn’t expecting this. I hadn’t expected them to go this far.

  I look up to give Liam a pleased smirk.

  “I knew it,” I repeat as I get up and throw the file on his desk. “Read this. Then tell me my plan won’t work.”

  24

  Callie

  Present Day

  He suggested to shoot some hoops this morning when he got out of the shower.

  At first I thought it was just another way of saying he wanted to fuck, insatiable bastard, but when he put on some green Celtic basketball shorts, I realized he was serious.

  “You’re a Celtics fan?” I cock a mocking eyebrow, the corner of my mouth slightly raised. He gives me a sarcastic glare without answering before he pulls a white t-shirt over his head, covering his lean torso. I’m more of a runner than a team sport kind of gal, but I won’t mind shooting hoops all day if that is what I’ll be looking at.

  He chases me around the court for a half hour until he steps out to take a phone call. My hair is sweaty, and I’m panting, trying to catch my breath. I’m standing on the indoor linoleum court wearing nothing more than a black tank top and some gray skin-tight shorts while I bounce the leather ball between my feet.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  My eyes are focused on the ground while the steady rhythm of the ball soothes my mind.

  I slept with him last night.

  Again.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Even though I swore to myself I wouldn’t, because I need to focus, to keep my pants on, reminding myself he can’t be trusted. He still got to me.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  He still gets to me. After my unpleasant encounter with Fernando yesterday morning, I wallowed in my own sorrow, feeling bad for myself. I grabbed a bottle of fine ass whiskey I found in that man-cave then wrapped myself in a blanket before I dropped myself in front of the big screen in the cinema room watching fucking Vampire Diaries. At least that made
me feel a bit better.

  Elena likes Damon. Correction, loves Damon. Damon is a psychopath. A serial killer pretending to have a moral code when really he’s just a selfish douchebag who only cares about getting what he wants.

  Yet she still likes him.

  She still feels safe with him. So there isn’t anything wrong with me, right? If Elena is fine, so am I.

  Except I don’t feel fine. I feel stupid.

  Stupid little girl.

  That feeling was replaced by an unfounded confidence that grew with every glass I poured down my throat. By the time Elena finally admitted she had feelings for Damon, I was convinced I was totally right for wanting to endlessly fuck my handsome incarcerator, even though he is a murderous crime lord.

  I was also drunk as fuck.

  I must have passed out because when I woke up, I was covered by the dark sheets in Kane’s bed with his body wrapped tightly around mine. I thought about pushing him off, bolting again, but I just didn’t want to. I wanted to stay right there, safe inside those rock-hard arms.

  So I did.

  And now I’m playing a game of basketball, like he’s my boyfriend or something.

  I roll my eyes, thinking about how stupid and naïve I really am. Do I really think there is a chance of getting out of here in one piece? Do I really think he can be my safe haven?

  My thoughts are interrupted by the slamming of the soundproof door, and I look up smiling, expecting to see Kane. My face falls when Liam walks in wearing a dark gray, three-piece suit, and an angry look on his face. He takes off his jacket and tosses it on the floor before he removes his cufflinks while sauntering towards me, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. I pretend to be indifferent to his aggressive energy as I casually grab my water bottle and fill it in the water dispenser on the other side of the court, even though my stomach is flipping over like it’s a fucking frog on crack.

  And no, I don’t know what that looks like, but it’s what my stomach feels like.

  “Oh, hey, asshole,” I casually say before I put the bottle against my lips. I can feel his weight drum into the floor with every step he makes, and I know I’m in trouble. He takes long, determined strides towards me until he smacks the water bottle out of my hands.

  “Hey! I—” My words are abruptly cut off when I feel his hand wrap around my neck while he slams my back against the wall. The pain of my head hitting the cold concrete shoots through my brain, but I fight to ignore, keeping my focus on his rage-filled eyes.

  He is just as gorgeous as his baby brother, reminding me of a blond, Scandinavian god. One that can love fiercely but make the earth shatter around your feet if his wrath is solely pointed on you.

  Guess which side I’m on right now?

  “Fucking tell me where your shithead of a dad is,” he growls in my face.

  My heart is pounding out of my chest, and his hand is slowly cutting off my airstream, making it hard to breathe.

  “I don’t know,” I lie.

  He slams my head against the wall again, and I whimper at the aggression in his action. I don’t know why he hates my family so much, why I piss him off. But I do know I won’t go out without trying to piss him off even more.

  Because I don’t bow down. Ever.

  “Lies,” he spits in my face. “All that ever comes out of a Reyes are lies.” His eyes grow darker by the second until there is nothing left than a spark of deep blue in his now black eyes. He looks like the devil, ready to drag me back to hell. He lifts me up by my neck until my feet are barely on the ground, and instinctively, my hands move up to cover his, trying to get out of his grip. Although I’m gasping for air, I do my best to not show him any fear.

  Even though I know I’m in deep shit.

  “You can fool my baby brother all you want, you little skank, but I see you for everything you are. Nothing more than cheating, stealing scum. Just like the rest of your family. You’re the rats of the underworld. And you know what I do with rats? I cut them up limb by limb, leaving trails of their blood behind me.” His lips move closer to my ear as he tells me this, and it’s hard to focus when you get about fifty percent less oxygen in your body. But my brain was made to survive.

  Yes, the Reyes are known for their scamming skills.

  Their deception.

  But in order to deceive people, you have to learn how to listen. You have to watch for the details that will help you make them believe whatever you want them to believe. It’s exactly those kinds of details that are now telling me this isn’t just about my father.

  My voice comes out creaking from lack of air, but my eyes spit fire even though they are almost popping out of my head.

  “Whatever Reyes mujer got to you, I’m sure as fuck proud she fucked you over enough to make you act like this, asshole.”

  He clenches his jaw tighter, telling me I fucked up. That seems to be all I do lately, anyway. His hand is pressing tighter into my throat ,and I can feel consciousness slipping away.

  “You still have a big mouth now, little rat?” he whispers against my ear. I barely hear him with the beating of my heart growing louder with each second. I lift up my leg to knee him in the balls, but his hips have my entire body locked against the wall. I’ve got nowhere to go, so all I can do is wait for my brain to shut off. I feel my body slipping away, my head thinking about nothing.

  I didn’t know it was possible to think nothing, but for a heartbeat, that is all I am.

  Nothing. Blanco. Empty.

  I get pulled from my pool of emptiness when I’m suddenly dropped to the floor. My hands reach for my neck while my lungs are heaving to get in as much air as possible. I close my eyes, trying to calm myself down one breath at a time, relieved that I’m not dead until I register faint screaming around me. The sound is animalistic, telling me I’m not safe yet. My vision is blurry from the lack of oxygen, but when I glance up, I see Kane throwing Liam around the court.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he roars at Liam. They look like two titans, both filled with rage and both ready to kill one another.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting on the ground trying to get myself together, but they both look like they’ve received some serious punches, their hands covered in blood. Liam’s dress shirt is ruined by bloodstains, and the linoleum floor is covered in blood spatters.

  Liam straightens his body and screams at his brother.

  “What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re out here shooting hoops with the girl? She is the fucking enemy, Kane. Not your new fucking girlfriend.” He spits at his feet and Kane growls at him, showing his teeth in anger.

  “She is not Cristina! She. Is. Not. Cristina!”

  I blink at their words, my brain struggling to process whatever the fuck they are saying.

  “She is a fucking Reyes! A. Fucking. Reyes!” Liam points a finger at me where I crouch, still working to catch my breath, knees down on the floor. I glare at him through my lashes before I look up at Kane. Tension is dripping off his face, but his eyes shoot me a sympathized look.

  “My cousin Cristina?” I shake my head when I realize who the fuck they are talking about. “What the fuck has this got to do with Cristina?”

  My voice is hoarse because of my bruised vocal cords, but my anger is audible, anyway.

  Liam’s head snaps to mine, and his feet start to move towards me again.

  “Don’t you fucking touch her again.” Kane’s deep rumble makes him stop in his tracks, and he shoots me a scowl before his focus goes back to his younger brother.

  “Like she doesn’t fucking know.”

  “Know what?!” I get to my feet, my glare moving back and forth between the two of them while my hands slowly try to ease the skin on my neck. Kane’s face softens a bit when he looks at me, his eyes filled with conflict. Why do I feel like a fucking piece in a game of chess? A game of chess played by men thinking I’m a fucking pawn when all these motherfucking alpha males need to realize I’m the
goddamn queen.

  “Know. What. Kane?” I growl.

  25

  Kane

  Present Day

  My heart is pounding in my chest, and there is a weird feeling in my gut when I look at the bruises on her slender neck. Her teal eyes are beaming with anger, and it takes everything to keep me from wrapping her in my arms. I know my brother will never really hurt me, but he won’t hesitate to finish what he started with her if he thinks I’m in too deep. I sigh before I move my face towards my brother who is panting with his fists on his hips. I raise up my eyebrows, asking him a ton of shit without saying a single word.

  “Hell fucking no.”

  “What is the difference?” I shrug.

  “She doesn’t have to know shit.”

  “You just said she probably knows.” I emphasize while I point my finger at his face.

  “Right! So why the fuck tell her?” His jaw tics, and I can see his heartbeat pulsing through the veins in his neck.

  He looks like a damn maniac.

  “You’re not making any sense now, Liam. If she doesn’t know, we may as well enlighten her on the dirty tricks her family plays on a daily basis. If she does know,” I say, moving my gaze back to her, looking into her blue-green irises. I pin her down with my eyes, waiting for any changes in her expression, “she won’t confess any betrayal right now.”

  God, I hope she doesn’t know. I hope she really is better than the people who raised her, even though it will make no difference in the end.

  My gaze is focused on her, and I notice her eyes soften a little. She glares at Liam before moving her focus back to me.