by Mia Knight
“You replaced Vinny in every way—at work and in the family. You’re always there when everyone needs you. Gavin even made you Nora’s godfather. You’re the perfect agent—”
“I’m not working for him,” Marcus snapped.
She tightened her hold on the gun. “How can I be sure?”
“You know me, Carmen.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
She knew what he looked like during sex, that he was a money-making machine and dressed with the precision of a man who favored order above all else. She also knew that his acute concern and affection for Lyla didn’t make sense.
“This is what he wants—for us to turn on each other. You can trust me. I’m not the enemy,” he said.
“I want to be alone.” Last night, she killed her first man. When she saw the soldier outlined in the moonlight, something lethal and visceral took over. She stepped out of the shadows and pulled the trigger. It had been abrupt, gruesome, and final. She didn’t regret it, but this was different. Marcus wasn’t a heartless soldier hunting down a helpless baby. He was a man who kissed her ankles and touched her with gentleness and care.
She’d seen Marcus a handful of times since their disastrous hookup. The friendly familiarity he once treated her with was gone, and he spoke to her with the same polite reserve he used when speaking to a hotel guest. Even now, as she faced him across the room, his charming demeanor was absent.
“You’re exhausted. Put the gun down,” he said quietly.
“Why does Gavin trust you?”
“That’s between us.”
She tensed. “He’s not here to vouch for you.”
Nora began to fuss, roused by her body language and voice. She jostled the baby with one arm and took another step back, eyes never leaving her target. Holy shit. Could she really do this? Could she shoot a man she had once hooked up with? What if she was wrong and killed an innocent man? But if she was right, her hesitation could be their death sentence.
“Just leave, Marcus.” She didn’t want to have to make a choice.
“Put Nora down.”
“Why aren’t you leaving?” she demanded.
He took a step forward with one hand outstretched. “Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
Nora pitched forward. She dropped the gun and caught the baby before she fell. Her heart skipped as the gun fired. She shut her eyes for a fraction of a second and when she opened them, Marcus stood before her. He picked up her gun, flipped on the safety, and tucked it in the back of his slacks.
“And that’s why you shouldn’t hold a baby and a gun at the same time,” he said mildly. “Accidents happen.”
“I didn’t shoot you?” She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
“No, which is fortunate since I wouldn’t be much good to Gavin dead.”
Nora’s head whipped around at the sound of his voice. She made an urgent sound and reached for him as if she recognized him.
“Hey, baby,” Marcus crooned. When Carmen backed up, he shot her a molten look. “Give her to me.”
“No.”
“You’re not thinking clearly, and you’re scaring her. Give her to me.”
She rubbed Nora’s quivering back, but the baby wouldn’t be soothed. Nora’s piercing screams sent ricochets of pain through her aching head.
“What happened?”
Two armed security stood in the doorway. They both had guns in hand and were staring at the bullet embedded in the wall. Marcus took advantage of her distraction to snatch Nora.
“Hey!” she shouted and balled her fists to fight for her but stopped at the sudden silence.
Marcus handled the baby like an experienced father as he settled Nora against him. The baby was quick to tuck her head under her godfather’s chin and clutch a handful of his suit while she sucked her thumb.
She whirled to face the guards. “Why did you let him on the property?”
The guards glanced at one another and then her.
“Who fired the shot?” the guard asked.
“I did.”
They stared at her. “Why?”
“Why? Because we don’t know who that fucker bribed, that’s why!”
The guard’s eyes flicked to Marcus and then back to her. “The boss didn’t restrict Mr. Fletcher from the premises. Is there something we should know?”
“She’s tired,” Marcus said shortly. “I’ll take care of her.”
“Take care?” she choked.
“Any word?” Marcus asked the men.
“No, sir.”
“Inform us the minute you hear something. You’re dismissed,” Marcus said.
“Are you sure?” the guard asked with a wary glance in her direction.
“I’m armed,” Marcus said, and they nodded and left.
“You’re armed?” she asked warily.
Marcus gave her a very steady look. “Of course.”
He didn’t seem the type to know what to do with a gun but looks were deceiving. He brushed a finger down Nora’s cheek as he rocked her. The baby sighed contentedly against him.
She felt bereft and a little crazed without Nora’s solid weight against her. She had been welded to the baby for almost two days, and now, someone was taking over. “Why are you here, Marcus?”
Green eyes speared her. “No one should be alone on a night like this.”
Her overstimulated senses fixated on the splash of red the handkerchief made against his suit. She took a breath to clear her head. His cologne drifted in the air between them, tantalizing and taunting her. It roused memories of their bathroom hookup. Her nails sank into her palms as a flash of heat sparked in her belly. She wasn’t prepared for her womb to clench with need or the sudden slickness between her legs. What. The. Fuck.
“Carmen?”
She shook her head wildly. No. What was wrong with her? Her body went from unbearably cold to so heated she wanted to shave her head. She shuddered and paced away, trying to get herself under control.
“Carmen, are you okay?”
She was high on adrenaline, exhaustion, and fear. Her mind skittered in a dozen different directions. A geyser of emotions roiled in her chest, fighting to be freed. She adjusted her slouchy sweater and mopped up the lingering tears on her face with the large, droopy sleeve.
Everything jumped out at her—the color of a stuffed pink elephant on Nora’s drawers, the prisms of light from the chandelier and the constant flow of air conditioning that felt like sandpaper against her sensitive skin. She tried to smother the urge to beat her fists against the wall or break something. Rage and fear collided in her chest. She wanted to throw her head back and scream at the top of her lungs. Instead, she scrubbed her hands over her face and tried to get herself together. She was overtired, overstressed and just… over it. She had endured years of pain, horror, and death. This had to end. She couldn’t take much more.
“Carmen.”
She whirled to find Marcus standing a few feet away, arms empty. Her heart leaped into her throat before she noticed the tiny mound stretched out in the crib.
“You’re shaking,” he observed.
She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to hold everything in. “You can go now.”
“Save it. If being held at gunpoint didn’t work, you should know I’m not going anywhere until we hear the verdict.”
Her stomach lurched. “Verdict?”
“After Blade’s call, I couldn’t focus. I figured you were in worse shape than me, so I came by to check on you.”
And she almost killed him. Even as shame crawled up her throat, she scowled at him. “I’m fine.”
“You aren’t.”
She opened her mouth to make another heated denial.
“How could you be when Lyla’s life is at stake?”
Her argument died in her throat. Dimly, she registered that she was in an oversized sweater, yoga pants, and didn’t have on a lick of makeup. She was emotionall
y and physically stripped of all her normal shields and eons away from the vixen he encountered in the club bathroom. It shouldn’t matter to her that she probably looked like shit since he wanted nothing to do with her after that disaster. She didn’t blame him. She was a fucking mess.
“It’s almost over,” he said calmly.
“Over?” She let out a harsh laugh. “That’s what I thought when Vinny died. Then he came for Manny and Lyla, and he’s still coming for us.”
“Gavin will bring her back.”
“You don’t know what he’s capable of, and now, he’s teamed up with Lucifer. You have no idea what they could do to her!” Scenarios she hadn’t allowed herself to consider flashed through her mind. “Did you hear what he did to Lyla’s mother?”
Aunt Beatrice had been taken by the monster and tortured. Blade reported that her injuries were “horrific.” Hearing Blade use that word sent a chill up her spine.
“Gavin won’t let anything happen to her,” Marcus said.
“You have no idea what he’s walking into.”
“I do know.”
Something about the way he said that got her attention. “What do you know about Hell?”
Something was going in his veiled green eyes, something that put her on guard again. She took a step back and searched the room for a weapon. He released an aggravated growl.
“You can trust me, Carmen.”
“How do I know that?”
“Because I’d never hurt you!” He ran his hands through his hair, mussing his slick do. “You and Lyla put me through hell this week. First, the attack at the hospital, and then, we lose contact with you for hours after they made the hit on this house.”
“Why do you care so much?”
“What?”
“You don’t know us. Why do you care so much?”
His eyes narrowed to slits. She sensed his energy change a moment before he started toward her. The hairs on the nape of her neck rose. He stopped less than a foot away and leaned down until their faces were mere inches apart.
A week ago, she could stare into his eyes with only a distant sense of discomfort. Now, the act of holding his gaze was so intimate it made her skin erupt in goose bumps. She lifted her chin. She would not be intimidated. This was Marcus, after all, and she was Carmen fucking Pyre. Once upon a time, she brought powerful men to their knees. She’d be damned if she got flustered over eye contact.
“I saw the surveillance tape. I know exactly what happened to Lyla and Emmanuel Pyre,” he said.
4
She felt as if the bottom dropped out from under her. His eyes bored into hers with an intensity that made her want to look away, but she refused.
“I didn’t know Lyla before the attack, but I saw her after. I saw her smile and laugh. I saw her humanize Gavin and put him in his place. She’s a walking miracle. I didn’t think anyone could come back from something like that. That’s why I care.”
A tear trickled down her cheek, but she didn’t look away.
“As for you, I wanted to meet the woman who put her life on hold to care for her cousin after she’d been attacked. I wanted to meet Vincent Pyre’s backbone, the woman in his notes. He was a great man who taught me everything I wanted to know.”
She held up a hand in a gesture of surrender, but he didn’t stop. He was so close that his warm breath feathered over her chilled face.
“And you dare ask me why I care? How could I not care when you’ve all lost so much?”
His words and the mix of sympathy, bad temper, and need on his face made her stomach contract. It was all too much. She paced away as flashbacks of the night Vinny was murdered flashed through her mind. The familiar slap of grief was laced with terror, worry, and anxiety. She tried to switch the channel in her mind. The opulent nursery faded away as memories of her desperate run across a moonlit desert with Nora in her arms obliterated her surroundings. With the monster’s men on the way and no backup, Lyla had done the unthinkable.
“You run and don’t stop,” Lyla said.
“Please.” She was very aware of Nora crying against her chest. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I’ll hold them off until Blade comes and distract them if I have to. Here.” Lyla tucked a gun into the pocket of her robe. “Go.”
Fear consumed her. “Lyla, you can’t do this to me.”
“I love you. Now, go!”
She made the impossible decision to save Nora and leave Lyla behind. She could still feel the merciless scrape of branches on her legs and the cold terror rushing through her as she ran. She suffered multiple strokes as she huddled against the canyon, listening to the deafening crack of gunshots echoing through the night.
“Talk to me, Carmen.”
Her throat swelled with anxiety as she paced. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You have to.”
“Why?”
“Because you need to get it out. It’s killing you.”
She whirled to face him. Rage was better than worry, so she embraced it. A lethal combination of fury and panic collided in a vicious starburst in her chest. She felt as if she could breathe fire.
“What’s killing me is that this isn’t over,” she said through clenched teeth. “What’s killing me is that the motherfucker who killed my husband is still breathing. What’s killing me is that Lyla’s been kidnapped again, and Gavin is on his way to Hell!” She suppressed an angry roar. “It’s been almost three motherfucking years since Vinny and Uncle Manny were murdered. If he touches one hair on her head, I’ll rip his fucking heart out with my bare hands!”
“Gavin will bring her home.”
“Gavin told me he would take care of Vinny, and he’s dead! Gavin can’t stop him. No one can. He took everything from me! He took Lyla to finish what he started and I-I can’t…”
He reached for her, but she backed away, shaking her head so viciously that she felt dizzy. Pain threatened to split her heart in two.
“She can’t do this to me. I can’t lose anyone else. My heart can’t take it.”
Bravado fled, leaving only fear. She was going to shatter into a million pieces. She wrapped her arms around herself and heard her teeth chatter from emotional overload and shock.
Two arms wrapped around her and drew her against a solid chest. The urge to burrow against him, to lean on another human being was so tempting, but she couldn’t do that to him.
“Marcus, I’m fine,” she said as she pushed against him.
He didn’t budge. “You’re not fine.”
“I am—”
“Hush.”
His hand slid beneath her hair and cupped the back of her head as he held her close. She was immediately engulfed in his scent and strength. For a moment, she held herself stiff within the circle of his embrace and made a valiant effort to save him from herself, but he didn’t take the out she offered. He tucked her face into the hollow of his throat and hugged her tight.
“No matter what happens tonight, we’ll get through this together.”
Her attempt at keeping him at a distance crumbled. She was so fucking tired of being strong and holding everything inside. The need for human contact was stronger than her pride and mortification over her breakdown during their bathroom hookup. With a mewl of surrender, she collapsed against him.
He picked her up and carried her to the seating area on the other side of the nursery. He settled on the couch with her on his lap. She tucked her legs on either side of him and held on for dear life as her shields came crashing down. Fear had its talons lodged in her gut. She cried her heart out for Vinny, her father, Lyla and Gavin, and Aunt Beatrice who was in a coma. It was too fucking much. She wasn’t sure how long she cried, but when the storm passed, she slumped against his chest, and Marcus kissed her temple. It was a sexless, comforting gesture that made her feel coddled and safe.
“Gavin will bring Lyla back,” he said as he ran his hand over her quivering back. “He’s gonna end this. After tonight, it’ll be ov
er.”
“How can you be so sure?” she whispered.
“Because I know Gavin. Besides, he doesn’t want us raising Nora. That’s reason enough for him to make sure he and Lyla make it through this.”
For the first time in days, her lips lifted into a ghost of a smile. “I should have warned Gavin I’d teach Nora to dance on a stripper pole before she’s seven if he doesn’t come back.”
She heard the rumble in his chest before he laughed. She tipped her head on his shoulder so she could watch. One hand stroked her back while the other sifted through her hair. The polite reserve was gone, and the easy affection was back. She soaked it in.
He looked down at her, green eyes filled with mirth. Heat unfurled in her stomach and spread. Memories of their hookup flashed through her mind—Marcus holding her against the wall, the feel of his cock stretching her, and the image of his ass flexing as he thrust into her… She breathed in his musk and that scent that made her mouth water with need.
His finger ran over her cheek. “You have a scratch here.”
“Cactus.”
Amusement faded. “You’re safe now.”
Her fear was morphing into something else, something she welcomed. For the first time in years, she felt a pang of hunger that had nothing to do with food. After being so close to death, the need to reassure herself that she was alive overrode everything else, even fear. Marcus was the only man who had been able to rouse an iota of passion in her since Vinny passed. On a night of uncertainty with death on the horizon, she needed this.
“Cold?” Marcus asked and looked around for a blanket.
“Not for long,” she said.
“What?”
She kissed him and he stiffened. She clasped his face, delighted by the simple pleasure of feeling his smooth skin beneath her tingling palms. Why hadn’t she noticed before how soft his lips were? That they were perfectly shaped? He pulled back. She followed and gained access when he opened his mouth to speak. Her tongue swept in. Fuck. He tasted like… She rubbed her tongue against his to get a better sample.