Kiss Me (Kiss of Death Book 2)

by LP Lovell

  “Always,” I whisper. He grips my face and kisses me hard, his lips moving over mine as though he’s trying to stain my very soul. Little does he know, he irrevocably imprinted himself on me a long time ago. Whatever plan Nero is trying to come up with, he’s grasping at straws, I know that. He knows it. Otherwise he wouldn’t be trying so desperately to bring me to his cause. Nicholai has us backed into a corner. Checkmate. The game is over, but Nero refuses to accept it, because of what he stands to lose.

  And isn’t this the way this was always destined to go? Everything has come full circle and I’m right back where I started with him; me and Anna. Nero and I could no sooner run from this than we could fate itself because we orchestrated it. Every move we’ve played has brought us here. We fight, we kill, it’s inherently twisted into every fiber of our DNA, and this is the price we pay. Normality is a distant wish, a dream that we can’t quite grasp. I want to grasp it though, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, but I won’t sacrifice people along the way. I won’t sacrifice Anna today only for Nicholai to play another hand and catch me tomorrow. No, this has to end. I’ll let Nero plot and plan. I’ll go along with it for his sake, but I have my own plan.

  “Come. We have to talk to them,” he says, taking my hand and leading me towards his office.

  Gio sits beside Rafael on one of the couches and once again, the blue prints are on the coffee table. Truthfully, I’m not sure Nicholai will even have Anna there. That’s his main base, but he has others, and of course, I know the layout of that base intimately. Logically, he would take her elsewhere, but then he told me to come to him. That is where I’d go, so maybe she is there.

  Nero moves to the corner of the room and pours out a glass of whiskey. He looks more worn than usual, with shadows lingering below his eyes. He swallows the whisky in two gulps and turns his attention to the plans. I take a seat next to him, and his hand lands on my thigh possessively. They discuss everything, but I barely hear them. I know they’re flogging a dead horse. Nicholai managed to get to Anna when she was buried at the heart of the cartel, a place that we all thought was untouchable. Nowhere is untouchable to Nicholai though. She isn’t getting out of that base unless he willingly lets her walk out the gate. And the only way he’s doing that is if I walk in.

  Rafael gets up, swearing in Spanish as he stalks to the side of the room and slams his hand against the wall. I narrow my eyes at him. Nero leans into my side, whispering in my ear. “I think Rafael is in love with your sister.” Rafael and my sister. I clench my fists and one hand instinctively reaches for the blade strapped to my thigh, my fingers brushing over it. Another reason for me to hurt him, taking advantage of my abused and broken sister. Nero chuckles, covering the blade with his own hand. “Such a vicious butterfly.”

  I push to my feet, glaring at Rafael as I cross the room. Everyone tenses, expecting me to do something, but instead I simply brush past him, glaring as I leave the room. I check my watch. I have forty-five hours and nine minutes before I have to be in Russia. I walk straight to the armory, taking the key from my pocket and opening the door to the panic room that also houses all the weaponry. Checking the cameras, I see that Nero and the Mexicans are all still in the office. I grab a .40 Cal and a spare clip and shove both in the back of my jeans with my 9mm. Next, I open all the draws, glancing over the various bullets until I see what I’m looking for. There are two tiny silver canisters tipped with needles. I take them, shove them in the pocket of my hoody, and leave the room. As I step out of the dining room, I bump into Tommy. He startles and clutches at his chest.

  “Jesus, do you have to creep around in the dark?”

  “It’s just me,” I snort.

  He glares. “You do realize that actually makes it worse?”

  I roll my eyes. “You are such a pussy.”

  “No, I just have a self-preservation. You haven’t killed me yet, so…”

  “I haven’t killed you because I like you,” I tell him.

  “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You should.” The smile slowly slips from my face as I stare at him. Tommy has this innocence about him, a side that’s managed to remain untainted by the darkness that surrounds him. I wind him up, but I hope he never loses it. I hope he always see’s the light in the dark, no matter the circumstance. “Never change, Tommy.”

  He frowns. “Are you okay?”

  I nod and walk away from him. I can’t dwell on the people here; on the life I have or could have had. Instead I go to bed, sliding one of the metal canisters beneath my pillow. I’m ready, organized. I have everything I need to do what must be done, and so, I lie here, my stomach churning horribly. By the time Nero finally comes to bed, my emotions are completely fraught and burnt out.

  He slips beneath the covers, and slides his hand around my waist. “Morte,” he whispers.

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Not even a little bit. “Yeah.”

  “I have to ask because Rafael is still alive.” I can hear the amusement in his voice.

  “As soon as this is done, he’s fair game,” I growl. Mexican fuck. He not only loses my sister but he made a play for her.

  He laughs and brushes his lips over my neck. “I’ll even hold him down for you.”

  “I thought he was your friend.”

  “I don’t have friends, morte. I have pawns, and when they fail me, they lose favor.” God, I love how utterly heartless he is. I turn over and thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him to me. I slam my lips over his, needing to feel him, craving his strength and his brutality and everything that makes him so inherently feared by all who hear his name. I want my monster. His tongue brushes against mine and I moan into his mouth, raking my nails over his neck. I want him to make me forget everything for a moment, to allow me to immerse myself in him, drowning out the voices that are screaming inside my head.

  I get to my knees and straddle his body, our lips never breaking apart. He sits up and wraps his arms around me so tight that it feels as though he’d never let me go. His lips leave mine, pressing into the skin of my neck, warm and hard, demanding and yet giving. I scratch my fingers through his hair and cling to him, wishing that I could pause time and remain here, safe in his arms. I’ve always been alone, always fiercely independent, but having him has made me realize what it is to have someone. To be protected. And once you’ve known that…I have a feeling to be without it is its own form of cruel torture. His hand slides between my legs. He hisses out a breath when he realizes I’m not wearing any underwear beneath his oversized t-shirt. His fingers press against me and he groans against my throat on an open-mouthed kiss.

  “So fucking wet, Morte,” he breathes. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and close my eyes when he pushes inside me. Every time with him is a shameless claiming, complete possession laced with something so raw and real that I almost feel as though I can’t breathe without it. Nero always feels like the very essence of life, right on the ragged edge at all times. He shifts beneath me and then his fingers are replaced by his cock pushing against me. His hands grip my hips, guiding me down over him slowly. I still, breathing heavily against his lips. It’s so intense. So all consuming. What was once a bloody battle now feels like the sweetest surrender, the melding of two war-torn souls embracing each other’s scars. I slowly roll my hips over him and his breath stutters, his arms pinning my body to his. Pleasure fires through me and I throw my head back on a low moan. His lips meet my jaw and move down the column of my throat. His tongue and teeth work over my skin in a frenzy. He sucks one nipple into his mouth before biting down hard enough that I instinctually flinch away from him. Huffing a small laugh, he yanks me closer and threads his fingers through my hair before bringing my face to his. Our lips meet and the frantic kisses slow, growing deep and drugging. This tension hangs in the air between us—all the words neither of us can say—and I wonder if he knows? Both his hands cup my face and he tilts my head back, slidi
ng his tongue across mine, push and pull. Back and forth. I think of leaving him and my chest tightens because it’s the last thing I want. But this isn’t our reality, this right here is a dream, a life we have no right to. I see that now, and as hard as it is to let go of dreams, at some point, we must wake up. He pushes up against me, staking his claim on me, marking me in every way. My heart squeezes in my chest and I cling to him more tightly as I feel myself splinter apart. I try to erect the steel walls that I need to protect myself, but my heart remains painfully exposed. His movements become slow and teasing. He’s so deep, he’s practically a part of me. A slow wave of pleasure builds and then crashes over me, rolling on and on. I press my lips to his, squeezing my eyes shut and I feel a tear track down my cheek. He stiffens beneath me, his movements becoming jilted and brutal as he groans my name over and over.

  “I fucking love you,” he growls, touching his forehead to mine. His breath washes over my face and I inhale the scent of him: cigarettes and whiskey tinged with mint.

  “I love you,” I whisper, pushing him back on the bed. Our eyes meet and he strokes the curtain of hair away from my face. I see his feelings reflected right back at me, the kind of obsession that consumes absolutely. Ours is a love that burns so hot and bright that it destroys everything in its path. Separate, we are strong, but together we are unstoppable. And I’m about to separate us. I hate it, but I do what must be done. I must believe that what we have will transcend time and distance. I’ll need him, even if it’s just the simple thought of him.

  Closing my eyes, I slide my hand beneath the pillow. I almost hope he stops me because I don’t want to do this. It breaks my heart to betray him. I lean in, kissing him gently, allowing my lips to linger over his. My fingers wrap around the small canister and I think of Anna. In a lightening quick move, I jab the dart into the side of his neck. He stills and I pull back, meeting his shocked expression. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice breaking as the tears now pour freely down my face.

  “Una, no,” he rasps. His hand wraps around my throat, and I do nothing to fight him off as he squeezes hard.

  Instead of pulling away from him, I push closer, kissing him. My tears spill onto his lips. I can taste them on my tongue. “I love you, Nero. Trust me.” His eyes start to droop and his hold loosens. “One day, I will return to you.” His eyes roll back in his head, and I kiss him one last time before I slide away from him, climbing out of the bed. I throw on a pair of black jeans and a hoody before I grab the bag I left under the bed. I spare him one last glance, and then, for the second time, I leave Nero with his scent still clinging to my skin and the taste of him on my lips. Only, this time, it feels like I just ripped out my own beating heart. This time there is so much more at stake.

  I move through the apartment, careful not to make any noise. I’m pretty sure I’m going to encounter some of Nero’s men at some point, but I’m ready for that. I can’t let them dart me again. Nero will literally chain me in a basement somewhere and never let me out. I slink through the living room and pause when I hear a loud click. Freezing, I slowly shift my gaze to the couch. The bright red end of a cigarette glows in the darkness and I can just make out Rafael’s features. I reach for the gun at the back of my jeans, wrapping my fingers around it slowly. If he tries to stop me…

  “You are going to him,” he says, his voice low and deep.

  “Do not try and stop me. I do what I must.”

  He leans forward, allowing the cigarette to hang loosely from his fingers as he props his elbows on his thighs. “You will sacrifice yourself for her?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your child? You will sacrifice your child for her?”

  I clench my teeth. “I thought you…felt something for her.”

  He sighs and pushes to his feet, moving toward me. I can just make out his coal black eyes in the dim light. “Yes, but Anna would never wish you to sacrifice an innocent child, Angel.”

  “I have a plan.”

  He takes another slow drag of his cigarette. “Ah, you and Nero and your plans.”

  “This one…it doesn’t involve Nero.”

  He’s silent for a moment. “How do you know he will release Anna?”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t.” I feel like I’m free-falling, trapped in a hopeless situation. But Nero always says life is just a giant chess game. All I have to do is position key players. “I need you to do me a favor,” I say. He nods. “If he doesn’t release Anna, bargain for her return. Once he has me, he doesn’t need her. Let him put her to good use elsewhere.”

  “Bargain what?”

  I stare at him for a second. “You have access to a port…”

  “Yes.”

  “Offer him the use of it. Getting arms over the southern border is the easiest access point into America, but the cartels won’t allow the Russians any foothold.”

  He frowns, saying nothing as he takes a long drag of his cigarette. “That would cause problems.”

  I glance nervously towards the top of the stairs. I don’t know how long that tranquilizer will work for. I’m guessing he went on the lighter side of the dosage for my body weight. Nero weighs more than twice what I do. “Look, it won’t be for long. Anyway, Nicholai is not one to break his word. I think he’ll let her go.”

  He shakes his head. “You are his favored pet, Angel. And you have proven unruly. He has the means to control you, do not think that he will give that up easily.” I nod. “Go. I did not see you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And Una…”

  “Yes?”

  His eyes drop to my stomach, a pained expression crossing his face. “Be safe.”

  I turn away from him and head for the elevator, palming both my guns as I descend into the parking garage. When the doors glide open, I expect to find half an army down here, but there’s only two guys in suits. Both have cigarettes in hand and are staring at me blankly as though they just received a surprise guest. I charge the first guy, pistol-whipping him hard enough to knock him out. The second goes for his gun, and I drop, kicking his legs out from underneath him and nailing him in the temple with my fist. I remain crouched, my eyes darting over every shadowy inch of the parking garage before I get up and jog towards my motorbike still parked where I left it all those months ago. I take the key from my pocket and swing my leg over the black and chrome machine. It coughs and splutters as I turn the key, but eventually roars to life. If there was no army of Nero’s men before, there will be soon. I place a small earpiece in my ear and swing my bag onto my back before I’m wheel spinning out of the parking garage. My phone rings, buzzing in my pocket. I press a button on my ear piece and Billy James’ voice comes over the line.

  “Where am I meeting ya?” he says in his thick southern accent. Billy is a pilot who has gotten me out of some dicey situations. He’s very good at forging the necessary paperwork for bogus flight plans. He’s a handy guy to know, and most importantly, he has no links to the Italians.

  “Teterboro. I’ll be there in about half an hour,” I shout over the roaring engine of the bike.

  “Yes ma’am.” He hangs up and I drop the bike a gear, sending it hurtling towards the George Washington bridge. I may be away from Nero, but I never underestimate his power or reach. New York is his city, and as long as I’m in it he can catch me. I don’t know what scares me more now, Nicholai or what Nero will do if he catches me. He’s going to be so pissed. I wish I could have explained this to him, but he won’t listen to rational when it comes to me or the baby. Nicholai taking Anna has forced my hand, but it also made me realize there is nowhere we can run. We could fight, but he has us outgunned in every way. He got to Anna, and that means he can get to me, so I’m taking control. I’m taking a page out of Nero’s book and playing it smart, being strategic. I will end this, one way or another.

  I drive the half an hour outside of the city, checking my mirrors constantly for approaching cars. When I pull up to the runway, the guard takes one look at
me and waves me through. Again, Nicholai’s reach is far. This is one of the runways we use to move in and out of the country unnoticed. The Elite are ghosts, and ghosts fly under the radar at all times. The Americans need never know of our existence, not even aliases if it can be helped.

  I drive the bike over to hangar six and park it in the corner, pulling a tarp over it. I have no doubt that Nero has a tracker on it, but I’ll be long gone by the time he finds it. Billy leans against the steps of a small private jet, his thick arms folded over his gut and a cigarette hanging from between his lips.

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to smoke around jet fuel,” I say dryly.

  He smiles, taking the smoke and flicking it across the hangar. I roll my eyes. Jesus, this is what happens when you employ a redneck to fly you around. I shove a stack of bills into his hand and climb the steps.

  “Well ain’t you cheerful tonight, blondie? Ya know, I dropped everything to fly you.”

  I stop at the top of the steps and turn to face him with a smile painted on my face. “Very kind of you. I’m sure that ten grand helped.”

  He sniffs as he walks up the steps. “Ain’t gonna hurt.” That’s what I thought.

  I take a seat on one of the leather chairs and lean back in it, bracing my head against the headrest. My stomach is churning with anticipation. I wish I could turn back, I really do, but I push those thoughts aside. I focus on the part of me that’s been lying dormant. I search for the girl that experienced too much too young, that saw horrors and did things her own fragile mind couldn’t comprehend. They girl who became a monster. I need to be that girl again. The girl I was for so many years. That girl was broken and unfeeling and she missed out on so much, but she was capable of taking down Nicholai. I now have to balance the need to become the beast without allowing it to consume me. I know whatever Nicholai has in mind for me isn’t pretty. It’s so easy to just slip into that dark place where fear and pain do not exist. That place is easy, but it’s also dangerous. I could easily lose myself there and forget what I’m fighting for. I can never forget. The memory of Nero, of what we have…Nicholai will try to strip me of it. Nicholai always told me that love is weak. He forced me to shoot Alex, the boy I loved, just to prove it. But he’s wrong. Love can make you stronger than ever, because the fact is, Nero and I are stronger together than we are apart. And with him at my side, we are a force of nature, a fucking hurricane. Nicholai has no idea the kind of hornet’s nest he is kicking. Nero may not be standing beside me here, but I know he is mine and I am his, and that will have to be enough to make me keep fighting. I know he will rain hell down on Nicholai in every way he can, and my capo can be quite inventive. This is a war on two fronts.